


The Devil’s Playground

by LucyFinch



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-11-01 06:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17862080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyFinch/pseuds/LucyFinch
Summary: So you meet Michael Langdon our in the woods and deliver him to the church of Satan. He claims to be the Antichrist. What a load of crap. Or so you think.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:  
I’ve worked in the Morningstar bar in central New Orleans for almost a year now, and every day is the nearly the same. Serve drinks, get threatened by drunks, repeat. I always find myself longing for some kind of excitement and adventure, the same kind I had in the life I used to live. But that ended so badly last time that I know I am not destined for that; I am destined for boredom, for living life without purpose, and for serving endless cocktails.  
It’s about 3 in the afternoon, and I decide to take my break a little bit early today. There’s only so much more of this place I can take. I do what I normally do everyday I choose a place to walk and think, either the park, by the river or the forest. The forest was probably my best option as there will be less people there, and I am in the kind of mood where if anyone talks to me I may just strangle them. As I walk in, the trees start to loom over me, and all is silent. I feel as if I can finally breath. But the peace is broken as I notice something, or someone, out of the corner of my eye.  
There is a boy, about 20 years old, sitting in a clearing that is surrounded by trees. He appears to be screaming at one of them but his words are too frantic to make out. He would be rather attractive if it wasn’t for the fact he looks quite dishevelled and is covered in blood.  
My initial instinct is to just walk away, and leave this lunatic to continue rambling. But perhaps my long-dormant conscience got the better of me. With a heavy sigh, I walk towards him.   
‘Would you like me to call someone? Your parents? An ambulance?’ I call towards him.  
He stares back at me with striking blue eyes.   
‘What do you mean?’ He asks, his voice trembling.  
‘Well, you’re clearly having a mental breakdown,’   
‘What gives you that idea?’ he retorts, looking slightly pissed off now.  
‘Perhaps it’s the fact that you look like you have murdered someone, or maybe that you are yelling at a tree. But to me you don’t seem as though you are in great shape,’ I reply, smugly.  
‘I’m trying to talk to my father. I’m on a mission. Go away,’ he snaps, turning away.   
‘Can you not just FaceTime him or something? Why do you need to sit out in the woods?’ As I walk towards him, I notice that he isn’t sitting in a circle. He’s sitting in a pentagram.  
‘Ah. he’s one of those weirdos,’ I think to myself.  
‘Come on,’ I sigh as I reach him, ‘I know a place that might be able to help,’  
He seems hesitant at first, as if he really does just plan on sitting there until his dad shows up.  
‘Look, whatever you are trying to do clearly isn’t working. So, by all means, continue to sit and lose your mind while you shout at trees. Or, you can trust me and try a new strategy,’ I suggest.  
I notice his eyes are filled with tears as he looks at me. He seems so desperate, so sad. He finally gives a little nod, and I help him to his feet. He leans on me for support and I guess that he probably hasn’t eaten in days. As we start walking, he stares at me with those ocean-blue eyes.  
‘Where are we going?’ He inquires, whimpering.  
‘The church of Satan,’ I say shortly.   
We continue in silence for a few minutes. The church of Satan has been useful to me, in the past. However, I make it no secret that I am not a fan of their church or those who are a part of it. I think all of their ‘hail Satan’ rubbish is pointless. They ramble on and on about the coming of the apocalypse, and how glorious it shall be, despite the fact that if it ever does happen, and I deem it highly unlikely, they will all die and will never be able to experience it. Some of the more annoying ones claim to have sold their souls to Satan, which further confirms my suspicion that they are all, in fact, deranged maniacs. This is why I feel this church will be perfect for this strange boy.  
As we walk through the winding streets, I become more and more curious. Who is this weirdo? Why do I feel so compelled to help him? And why the fuck does he keep staring at me?  
‘So, um, what’s your name?’ I ask, making a feeble attempt at conversation.  
‘Michael Langdon,’ he replies, never taking his eyes off me for a moment.  
We walk on in silence for a few moments. Clearly, this guy isn’t much of a talker.  
‘Mine is Y/N, just if you wanted to know,’ I state with indifference.   
At this point, I give up with the talking. The walk takes longer than it usually would, as I am practically carrying Michael. It seems to drag on for hours, as my every movement is being watched, those judgemental, blue eyes never leaving my face for even a second.  
We turn down the final street, and I see the familiar upside down cross painted onto the black walls. We turn and approach the bouncer who is always sitting outside. As he sees me approaching, he opens the rickety door behind him. This isn’t the first time I have brought some lost psycho down to their church. As I said, the church and I have a strange relationship. We despise each other in equal measure, but as the bar I work in is situated next to the building, we have no choice but to simply tolerate one another.   
‘When we go in, you have to be quiet. The high priestess will mostly be half way through a monologue about how everybody is useless and she hates it when her whining is interrupted. Or, they could be in the middle of a human sacrifice,’ I sigh.   
To my surprise, Michael doesn’t look afraid. If anything he looks curious.  
‘I mean it’s all bullshit of course. All this Satan stuff. But maniacs seem to enjoy it, so you should fit right in.’ I add.   
Michael looks as if he has never had anyone speak to him so rudely before.   
But he’ll have to get used to it. I’m rude to everyone.  
‘You don’t believe it?’ He asks after a few moments.  
‘No. As I said, it’s all bullshit. It’s all so insane I find it quite funny that some people do actually believe it,’  
For a moment, I think I see Michael look disappointed out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t have time to dwell on it.  
We enter the main part of the church, which is shrouded in blood red lighting for dramatic effect I guess. Rows of pews face an alter, and in every space sits some lost soul searching for answers.  
Just as I predicted, the high priestess is having ranting.   
‘People, listen the fuck up. Just because we have a president who is a total douche nozzle, and global warming is getting worse, that doesn’t mean you can sit here on your lazy asses, and holler out a few ‘hail Satans’. You think end times is going to show up like a herpies sore?‘ she shouts.   
Michael and I take a seat on the back row. Michael seems utterly immersed, whereas I can’t help but roll my eyes.  
‘I’m so tired of preaching to the goddamn choir,’ the high priestess continues, ’What aren’t you getting? You know the drill. The Antichrist is going to ride in on a wave of sin. And all we have here is a weak piss dribble. Somebody please help out. I’m about ready to gouge out my own eyes so I don’t have to look at this weak ass congregation anymore,’ she sighs.   
‘She really does have an awfully good talent for making people feel good about themselves,’ I think to myself, sarcastically.   
‘I need to hear some sins. I need to feel we’re making way for him,’ she preaches, dramatically.   
‘You,’ The high priestess says to a blonde woman sitting near the front. ‘What are your sins? What did you do to usher him in this week?’  
‘I stole 100 dollars from my register at work.’ The woman replies meekly.  
It is at this point that I have to suppress a laugh. Michael glares at me for disrupting the moment. What is his problem?  
‘Seriously? A fucking rounding error? You think that’s going to open up the gates of hell?’ The high priestess responds, looking at the woman with disgust.  
‘I slept with my wife’s sister!’ A man proclaims proudly. I laugh out loud this time. A couple of people turn around and frown at me but I’m too entertained to care.   
‘I’ve seen bad face lifts that are more evil than you,’ The high priestess taunts.   
The man looks bashful at realising that his adulterous habits count for shit.  
‘You wanna know what I did this week? You wanna be inspired? You wanna know how I’m helping bring end times?’ The high priestess asks to no one in particular.  
I swear that woman never stops talking.   
She pauses for dramatic effect, before saying, ‘I robbed a nursing home. And I gave all the money to the NRA,’  
I’m sure that the Antichrist is practically sprinting to earth after hearing that sin. It’s not as if she orchestrated a genocide. This why I hate satanists. They’re so full of self-importance, acting as if they have all the answers and they excuse their shitty acts as offerings for a higher power. I won’t say that I’m a perfect person, or even a good one, but at least I can admit I do horrible things because I want to, not to ‘usher in the Antichrist’. These people do bad things for one reason only: because they like it. Satanism is just an excuse for people to feel better about giving into their darkest impulses, which is why I think it is all a load of crap.  
‘Next week, I need to feel some evil. I need to be repulsed. I need to feel sick to my stomach. I wanna be inspired!’ She pauses for a moment, looking around to see if anyone has taken any of what she said in.  
‘Whatever. Let’s speak in tongues for a hot sec and show some respect,’ The high priestess finishes, looking disappointed that she didn’t make a greater impact.   
Michael looks like he’s about ready to drop dead. I was hoping the church would make more of an impression, that he would make friends and no longer be my problem. I guess I will probably have to give him food or something now, just to get him to leave me alone.  
‘I don’t have any money right now,’ I hear Michael say next to me.   
He’s talking to Madelyn, who is collecting money for something or other. She’s one of the more irritating Satanists here.  
‘Hello, Madelyn,’ I say through gritted teeth.  
‘Y/n,’ She acknowledges, with an expression of disgust on her face.   
She has been into the bar I work at many times, which is where we got to know each other. Or to be more accurate, where we got to hate each other. She considers me a ‘heretic’ and claims I do not respect Satan. Honestly the number of times she has pulled a knife on me now is getting higher than my salary.  
She turns back to Michael and asks, ‘How long’s it been since you ate, kid?’  
‘What’s it to you?’ Michael replies.  
‘Just trying to help out a fellow believer,’ Madelyn says. She glares at me after she says this, a subtle way of telling me to get out.   
‘You know, after the service, I could fix you something. My place is only a couple of blocks from here,’ Madelyn suggests, being unusually kind.   
I suppose she only behaves murderously towards me.   
‘That’s actually really nice of you,’ Michael says, almost sounding near to tears at this act of kindness. I wish he had been this grateful towards me.   
‘You’re not invited though,’ Madelyn adds, turning back to me.  
She says it as though I actually wanted to go back to her place, but her taking Michael off my hands is fine by me. I start to get up to leave, smiling to myself, when I hear Michael speak from behind me.   
‘I would prefer it if she stayed, actually,’  
I expect Madelyn to revoke her offer to Michael immediately, but to my surprise she simply sighs and says that I can come. Great. I’m stuck spending my afternoon with a psychotic guy I found yelling at trees in the woods and a Satanist who has threatened to murder me on multiple occasions.  
Just my luck.   
An hour later, I find myself sitting awkwardly in Madelyn’s house. Michael is happily devouring soup at the table next to me, and hasn’t said a word to me since we left the church.  
Madelyn’s house is very large for someone who I am pretty sure doesn’t work, considering how much time she spends either at the church or at the bar. I wonder how she is able to afford all of this.  
‘What’s your name, kid?’ Madelyn asks.  
‘Michael,’ he replies, after taking a few more spoonfuls of soup.   
‘You must have been starving. I’ve seen a lot of young people like you who come to our church off the 5 stars on Yelp, and the free doughnut at check in. They all have the same look you do. Scared, searching, questioning what the hell this all means,’ Madelyn lectures.  
She lights a cigarette, and rudely fails to offer me one.  
‘So, what’s your story? How did you end up all alone, and at our beloved Satan’s doorstep?’ Madelyn inquires.  
I’ve actually been wondering how he ended up in the woods myself, so I perk up to listen.  
‘My father abandoned me. My mother tried to kill me,’ Michael says nonchalantly.  
Damn. I had been expecting a clichéd ‘my girlfriend dumped me’ story. I begin to feel a little sympathy for him. I know what it is like to be betrayed by those you love.   
‘Humanity is shit,’ Madelyn states.  
‘That may be the first thing you have ever said that we can agree on,’ I chime in.   
‘I was in the middle of talking,’ Madelyn snaps at me, ‘This world is a twisted black hole of sin and chaos, and that’s why Satanism is the way of the future,’  
‘You don’t need Satanism to know that the world sucks. All you have to do is look around,’ I interject.   
Choosing to ignore me, Madelyn continues.  
‘We’re the fastest growing religion in the world, so we need people like you, bright, eager, the next generation to help spread the word of Lucifer because here’s the beautiful secret, babe, once you embrace that at our core we are degenerate, rotten beings, every last one of us, you’ll be free,’  
I’ll give it to Madelyn, she does make Satanism sound very appealing. I do share many of the same beliefs with her. I agree that all people, no matter how much they may deny it, are evil and corrupt. I speak from experience. But I can’t believe in miracles, I can’t believe that an all-powerful being will end the world. I can’t believe that you can sell your soul, and all your wildest dreams can come true.   
‘Satanism is about giving into your urges. Embracing sin, your true nature. I sold my soul to the Devil. And he gave me everything I ever wanted,’ Madelyn continues. This is where I start rolling my eyes again. This can simply not be true. It’s not like Madelyn’s life is particularly amazing. If she could ask for anything, why isn’t she living on her own island? Why isn’t she rolling around in cash? Why is she still sitting here in this house that she has probably lived in for years, with no husband, very few friends and not even a decent hobby? It just doesn’t add up.   
‘You sold your soul. Did you sign a contract in blood?’ Michael asks sarcastically.   
‘Couldn’t have said it better myself, mate,’ I think to myself.   
I’m starting to like this guy.   
‘I made a deal at a black mass, as one does,’ says Madelyn, clearly not picking up on Michael’s sarcasm, ‘Through prayer, and by prayer, and I mean killing people, it works!’  
‘If only more people knew,’ I say.  
Madelyn shakes her head at me, ‘You think you’re so clever, but you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. You’re standing in the proof! I offered up my soul, and he gave me all this. Riches beyond compare. I’ve got a lazy boy,’ Madelyn says, starting to move around and showing all the wonders the Devil has so kindly provided her with.  
‘A cable package with all the premium channels,’ she continues, ‘I shoot up heroin as much as I want and I never get the sweats. Every Wednesday night, Brad Pitt comes over and fucks me til the sun comes up,’  
‘Sure he does,’ I say with a smirk.  
‘On Friday nights, I get Ryan Reynolds,’ she adds firmly.  
She comes and sits back down, looking very impressed with herself.  
‘So that’s all it is then?’ Michael asks quietly after a moment, ‘Satan is carnal pleasure,’  
Madelyn laughs, ‘Hell no, we got a greater purpose. We are moving towards the beginning of the end. Our saviour is coming. A spawn of Satan will lead us off the cliff and into the end times, we just have to make things terrible enough for him to rise. We are the rancid, contaminated soil from which he will bloom. And then plunge us into eternal darkness so we can walk with Satan in ETERNAL HELLFIRE,’ she say passionately.  
‘What a lovely sentiment,’ I remark.   
After a moment, Michael says, ‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re waiting in vain.’  
Madelyn snatches the food Michael was reaching for away.  
‘What are you talking about?’ She asks with disgust, taking the food back into her kitchen.  
‘She’s going to pull a knife on you,’ I say to Michael matter-of-factly.   
Not listening to me, Michael continues to speak.  
‘I’m the one you’re waiting for,’ Michael says quietly.  
‘HOW DARE YOU BLASPHEMY!’ Madelyn yells, pulling a knife on Michael.  
Typical. Just when I was starting to have hope for this guy. Turns out not only is he insane and thinks he is the spawn of Satan, he is now very likely to be stabbed. He speaks again, ‘Before you kill me, dear believer, see me,’  
Madelyn looks at something behind Michael’s ear. She stumbles back in shock, gasping with excitement. She drops to her knees, repeatedly saying ‘Hail Satan’, over and over.  
I get up and walk around to Michael. He stares at me with those piercing blue eyes, just daring me too look at what’s behind his ear.   
Slowly. Ever so slowly, my hand reaches up to the side of his face and cautiously, I brush back his hair. I move my hand away quickly, just in time to see it, and there it is.  
666  
Engrained into his skin.  
The mark of the beast.  
The mark of the Antichrist.  
The bringer of the end of days.  
The one they have all been waiting for for.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Bullshit.  
‘Oh calm down,’ I snap at Madelyn, looking away from the ominous mark on Michael’s neck. ‘It could just be a tattoo, or a brand. It doesn’t mean he’s that Antichrist guy your always raving about.’  
Ignoring me, Madelyn continues to cry, down on her knees. I figure that we could be here for a while, as she shows no signs of stopping, so I sit back down and light one of her cigarettes.   
‘I see what you’re doing.’ I say to Michael, who looks quite pleased with Madelyn’s reaction. ‘You’re going to con her and all of her Satanist buddies. Get them to give you money, or whatever you say you need for ‘plan to end the world’ and then skip town when you’ve gotten everything you can out of them. Smart plan.’   
‘I’m not conning anyone.’ Michael says quietly.   
‘You don’t seriously expect me to believe this shit, do you? I mean, less than 3 hours you were crying and screaming in the woods. You don’t exactly give the impression of an all powerful being. And anyway, all that Satan crap isn’t real. These people can claim that Satan provides them with miracles, but I have never once seen Brad Pitt anywhere near Madelyn, and until I get some proof that this stuff really exists, I refuse to believe it. It just can’t be real.’  
Michael stares at me for a moment, smiling. He gets up from his chair, and walks slowly around to where I am sitting, his steps echoing all around the room, accompanied by Madelyn sobbing in the background. He stops barely a inch away, towering over me. He bends down, and whispers, ‘Why can’t it?’ He whispers.  
The way he says makes everything stop for a moment. Everything seems so still. I can feel myself becoming slightly unnerved. I don’t know why. It shouldn’t scare me, it’s only a simple question, but it does. I stare inquisitively at Michael, before Madelyn manages to pull herself together.  
‘We have to go back to the church,’ Madelyn suddenly declares. ‘There’s a black mass tonight. Michael can do it. We’ll clean you up a bit first though.’ She smiles proudly. The way she says ‘we’ makes me believe I am suddenly in on all of this.  
‘Did you happen to miss literally everything I just said? I. Still. Don’t. Believe. How many fucking times do I have to tell you?.’ I say angrily.  
‘Nobody is asking you to come.’ Madelyn snaps at me, her cheery manner from a moment ago instantly broken.  
‘You don’t need to tell me twice.’ I say, getting up instantly. Michael is these weirdos problem now, which was my plan all along really. I move so fast I almost half way to the door when I hear Michael say, ‘I would prefer it if she stayed.’  
That’s the exact same thing he said earlier at the church, but he has given no reason for his odd desire to have me around. Still just as the first time he said, and just as when I found him in the forest, I feel compelled to stay, to help.  
‘Oh for fucks sake.’ I said grumpily, walking away from the door.

Half an hour later, we are walking along the empty streets back to the church. It’s chucking it down with rain, and since Madelyn has neglected to share her umbrella with me, I’m soaked to the bone. And I’m freezing too. I should have just left when I had the chance, but no, that fucking creep told me to stay so I did. But why did I? I really need to work on over powering this guy. I can’t afford to let him get in my head.  
Michael is walking up ahead with Madelyn, and his fortunate enough to be sheltered underneath her umbrella. He glances back every once in a while to check that I haven’t made a run for it, but other than that he has completely ignored me. I feel like an unwanted tag along, with them leaving me to walk behind them in rain. A third wheel. Like fucking high school all over again.  
Michael is now dressed in a black hooded robe, the kind that a lot of Satanists wear. I knew he’d fit right in. He looks kind of attractive without all the blood and dirt on his clothes. I hate myself for even thinking that. I still can’t shake off the feeling that he gave me back at Madelyn’s house. For just a brief moment, I almost allowed myself to believe what he was saying.  
He is one seriously convincing con artist.  
We have finally arrived, and for the first and probably last time I actually am pleased to be at the church. This rain is so cold I am starting to lose feeling in several parts of my body.  
Apparently I am about to witness what the Satanists calm a black mass. From what I have heard, I think this is some kind of human sacrifice. The idea, I think, is to choose people that are ‘good’, such as a charity worker, and have a member of the church kill them. I think the aim of this is to make the world just that little bit worst, so their beloved Antichrist can come to them.   
I see two people tied up at the front of the church as we enter, behind where the high priestess is monologuing again. A man and a woman. They may be crying, but it’s hard to tell as I think they have been gagged. You can tell that they are trembling though, and they have every reason to be.   
The high priestess has just given a knife to a tall, slightly overweight man dressed in a classic Satanist robe. The honour of tonight’s black mass clearly belongs to him. I have a feeling he’s about to be upstaged.  
‘Wait!’ Madelyn says, running forward to the high priestess. ‘This is honour belongs to someone else.’  
‘Someone else?’ The high priestess says, looking confused.   
‘His name is Michael,’ Madelyn says as he walks forward. ‘He’s.... new here.’  
‘Well even if he’s willing to sell his soul, why should he go before-‘   
‘Michael doesn’t need to sell his soul.’ Madelyn cuts in.   
Michael begins to walk forward, at same slow pace at which he approached me at Madelyn’s house. Honestly put this guy in a grave yard and surround his feet in fog and you would have a classic horror villain in the making.   
‘The end times are upon us.’ Madelyn declares dramatically, gesturing for Michael to come forward. When he gets there, he turns around and lifts up his hair so that the high priestess can see the mark.   
At that moment, the lights flicker and the church is filled with the enormous roar of thunder. A freaky coincidence, I tell myself.  
Predictably, Michael’s revelation has the same affect on the other Satanists as it did with Madelyn.  
‘The mark of the beast.’ The high priestess says with a note of excitement. ‘Is it possible that you’re the one?’  
‘I am.’ Michael says with certainty.  
Everyone drops to the floor and begins the familiar chant of ‘Hail Satan.’   
‘This could go on for hours.’ I think bitterly.   
The high priestess clearly doesn’t want to waste any time though, and snatches the knife away from the other guy, and hands it to Michael. He takes it from her, which doesn’t surprise me at all. Just as he takes it, I jump in surprise; there is a choir behind where I am sitting, dressed in the same robes and singing ominously. These guys do love a bit of theatricality.  
Michael walks at that same slow pace to behind the soon to be sacrifice victims. He removes the blindfolds they were wearing, but not the gags. I would be extremely irritated by this in their position; they get no last words, they don’t even get to say a final ‘fuck you’ to the person who is about to kill them. If I were about to die, I would want to do it with some dignity, but these people, they can only sit there and tremble, and wait for the end to come.   
Michael pulls the man and the woman closer together, so that there heads are touching. He raises the knife to their necks, and then stares directly at me. Maybe he thinks he will scare me, maybe he thinks he will impress me. He is doing neither of these things, but he is adding to my growing sense of curiosity. Who the fuck is this guy?  
He doesn’t look away from me at all, not even when he draws the knife across both of their necks in one movement.  
‘Hail Satan!’ The high priestess proclaims, and everyone stands and applauds, worshipping their new leader. I see a faint smile cross Michael’s face. Clearly he’s enjoying the attention.

Michael’s fans drag him into another room, where they plan to have dinner together. They all sit him down a table that is covered in different assortments of food. They hand him a plate that is stacked with seemingly a piece of everything. He takes a bite, with them all standing around him, smiling, eager for his approval. I am sitting at the back of the room trying my very best not to laugh.  
‘Is it too spicy?’ Madelyn says.  
‘No, it’s good.’ Michael replies. Even he is started to look a little freaked out but these people, although he has only himself to blame.   
‘Thank the Dark Lord, it’s my mother’s recipe.’ The high priestess says, sounding close to tears.   
‘Now try the macaroni salad.’ One Satanist chimes in eagerly.  
‘No, the turkey meatballs!’ Another adds.  
‘Can I touch your hair?’ The high priestess asks, not at all creepily. These people are more obsessive than marvel fans, I think to myself.   
‘Let the kid eat!’ Madelyn says, coming to Michael’s defence.   
‘Is something wrong? What can we get you? What can we do?’ Madelyn says to Michael.  
‘I just think everyone should do what you normally do.’ Michael says, in an attempt to get rid of them. ‘Have fun. Enjoy your Wednesday pot luck dinner like always.’  
Fortunately for him, the Satanists do exactly as he says, except for Madelyn, who stays sitting with him. I decide to stay sitting at the back on my own. I don’t really know what to do with myself, and I feel thoroughly out of place. Too many fucking high school flashbacks in one night.   
I’m just making myself comfy when I see Michael gesture for me to come over. With an eye roll, I go and sit down at his table.  
‘Can I leave yet?’ I ask.  
‘No.’ Michael replies, which causes me to roll my eyes yet again.  
‘Look I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly one of these guys. So don’t expect to get downs on my knees and worship, or do everything you tell me to, or make you turkey meatballs. You do not control me. I can leave whenever I want.’  
‘Then why haven’t you?’ Michael says, with an air of triumph.  
I suppose I walked right into that one. I would give Michael an answer if I had one. Instead I just scowl and him, light another cigarette and put my feet up on the table.  
‘So, what happens next?’ Madelyn asks, almost vibrating with excitement.   
‘Probably your lasagne.’ Michael says, going to take a bite.  
‘No, I meant on the global annihilation front.’ Madelyn laughs. ‘What do we do first? When do we do it?’  
Michael looks embarrassed, before saying, ‘I’m not sure.’  
‘What do you mean you’re not sure?’ Madelyn says looking mildly concerned now.  
‘I don’t know what to do. Where to begin.’ Michael says.   
‘But your the Antichrist.’ Madelyn says feebly.  
‘Which people won’t let me forget. Everyone keeps saying that I’m special, that i’m the only one who can bring about the end times. But nobody gave me a fucking instruction manual!’ Michael says, his voice getting more high pitched and stressed in every word. He gets to his feet as if he is about to start yelling.   
‘And the one person who always helped me, who I could always turn to for advice- she’s gone now.’  
‘Jesus Madelyn, don’t upset it.’ I say. ‘If your so keen to avoid the pressures of being the Antichrist, why reveal yourself, why tell the group of people who are most likely to put pressure on you? You say everyone tells you that you are special, but on some level you must believe that you are- or you wouldn’t be here right now would you?’ I finish my criticism by blowing a hefty clump of smoke in Michael’s face.   
Michael sits back down again, looking as almost as deranged as he did in the forest.   
‘What do you know?’ He snaps at me. ‘I have no one.’ He whimpers.  
‘I think there are some people you needs to see.’ Madelyn says, leaning forward and and grabbing Michael’s hand.  
‘Like a psychiatrist?’ I suggested helpfully.  
Choosing to ignore me, Michael says, ‘Who?’  
‘Just trust me. We are on the precipice of oblivion, Michael. Now is not the time to bury yourself in doubt. This person who helped you, what was her name?’ Madelyn says.  
‘Miss Miriam Mead.’ Michael replies.  
‘We have access to private search engines.’ Madelyn says, typing something in on her phone. ‘They can find anyone. And there she is. We’ll just go and pick her up.’  
‘I think when Michael’s says that she is gone, he means that’s she’s dead, not missing. There’s nothing you can do about that.’ I say.  
‘Michael can bring her back, he’s the Antichrist.’ Madelyn says confidently.  
‘That’s not possible.’ Michael says. ‘I’m not powerful enough to bring her back. Not anymore at least.’  
Not that I feel particularly sorry for him, he has just ruined a perfectly good day after all by dragging me here, but I can understand how he feels. Nobody likes to feel helpless.  
‘Being dead is something that we can work around.’ Madelyn says, and turns to look at me. I suddenly know who she is thinking of, and what they could do to help Michael.  
‘I’ll take Michael to them tomorrow.’ I blurt out, much to my surprise. Why am I offering this guy favours?  
Madelyn gets up and walks over to Michael. ‘You are the Son of Satan. There is no one, or no thing, you can’t have.’ And on that note, Madelyn leaves the table, leaving just me and Michael.  
‘Well it looks like your staying at my place then.’ I say after a few moments.  
‘You don’t mind?’ Michael says, a happy glint in his eye.  
‘Well, you don’t really want to stay here with your fangirls, do you?’ I say with a smirk. ‘Come on. I’m not spending another minute here.’  
Michael gets up, and starts to follow me out of the hall. So much for not letting this guy in my head. I’ve already let him into my home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Let me know if you’re interested in reading more of this. ☺️


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:  
Michael and I walk the couple of blocks to my apartment in complete silence. Maybe it is because it’s still raining heavily, and without Madelyn’s umbrella we are both getting drenched and talking would slow us down, or maybe it’s because we’re both just antisocial.  
I live in an extremely cheap apartment building. I have one bedroom, one bathroom and a living room and a kitchen that are conjoined. It’s really not very impressive, but it’s not like I could afford any better. It’s definitely not suitable for someone who claims to be the Antichrist, but he’s just going to have to put up with it, his only other option being to stay with one of those obsessive weirdos.  
As I predicted, Michael does not look impressed when we enter my apartment. I walk in before Michael and try to shift some of the empty vodka bottles, so that I won’t come off as a complete slob.   
The only thing I love about this place is my choice in decoration. On the walls, I have movie posters, everything from Avengers: Infinity War to The Shawshank Redemption. There’s barely a piece of wall that isn’t covered by them. I see Michael looking around at them, a slightly confused expression on his face. I get the sense he is judging my decorations, which I do not appreciate at all. I try to ignore him.   
‘Ok, so I only have one bedroom, and as a guest you can have my bed and I will sleep on the sofa.’ I say, trying my very best to be polite. He simply looks at me and nods, not even a morsel of gratitude. So fucking rude.  
‘If you want food, don’t expect me to cook anything for you. I have enough trouble not burning this place down when just cooking for me. You want food, make it yourself.’ I continue. ‘And I have complete control over the tv. You want to watch it, we watch what I want.’   
‘What are these for?’ Michael says, gesturing at the posters.  
‘They are my only source of excitement in life. Well, the movies or tv shows that the posters are based on anyway.’  
‘What do you mean?’ Michael says.  
‘Well, Michael, I work in a bar seven days a week, I have no friends or anyone to talk to, so I turn to fictional worlds to escape from the bleakness of my existence.’ I respond dramatically.   
Michael stares at me, smiling. It’s as if he knows that he’s easily the most interesting thing to happen to me in the last 5 years, and he’s very happy about it.  
‘The bedroom is through there.’ I say, desperate to get rid of him now. He walks through my bedroom door, turns to smile at me one last time, and then slams it shut.   
I immediately walk over to the fridge to find some vodka. It’s been a very long, and a very weird, day. I sit on the sofa, and also my bed for the foreseeable future, and decide to watch The Dark Knight to make myself feel better. I also start doing some research on the Antichrist. When Michael let’s his guard down, he’ll make a mistake, something that will reveal he’s not really some all-powerful supernatural being, and when he does I want to be ready to call him out on it. I do so love proving I’m right about things.  
There’s also something else he said, ‘Nobody gave me a fucking instruction manual.’ Grinning to myself, I rip a few pages out of a notebook, tape them together and begin to make him one. I doubt he’ll find it very useful, as it’s filled with mostly sarcastic comments that are making fun of him and random stuff I found on Wikipedia, but I think it’s pretty funny. If he has a sense of humour hopefully he will agree. I sip my vodka happily as I finish my masterpiece: An Instruction Manual On How To Be The Antichrist And Blow Up The World, by Y/N L/N. I couldn’t be prouder of myself.  
‘Where are you taking me tomorrow?’ A voice suddenly says behind me.   
‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ I say, jumping. ‘It’s one in the morning, Michael, don’t sneak up on me in the pitch black dark. I’m taking you to these guys, these dumbasses that come into the bar sometimes. That’s how Madelyn and I know them. They own this tech company. They make these android things. You know, like Ava from Ex Machina.’  
Clearly he does not know Ava from Ex Machina, as he looks very perplexed. He doesn’t ask any more questions, however, and decides to sit down next to me on the sofa.  
‘I can’t sleep.’ He says, making himself comfortable.   
‘It is very hot in here. The cooling system must be broken. Weird. It was fine this morning.  
Michael goes to say something, but then seems to change his mind.  
‘What are you watching?’ He says, staring at the tv screen, where a hospital blows up behind the Joker.  
‘The Dark Knight. Best film ever made. Don’t try to disagree with me. How can you never have seen it?’ I say scathingly. ‘That’s like saying you’ve never seen Star Wars, or Harry Potter-‘  
Michael looks confused as I mention these as well.  
‘Is there anything you actually have seen?’ I say.  
‘Not really.’ Michael says.  
‘Well, then I have much to teach you.’ I say, as rewind The Dark Knight back to the beginning so that Michael can witness it in its full glory.  
I check every once in a while to make sure he’s enjoying himself, which he seems to be. It’s kind of hard to tell considering he doesn’t express many emotions, at least except for confusion. I start making a mental list of all the movies and tv shows I’m going to have to show him, when I start to fall asleep. The vodka must finally be catching up with me.  
I wake up to the sound of a crow making truly annoying noises outside my window. I tolerate it for about ten minutes, as my head is pounding and I can’t be bothered to move. Eventually I have to give in. As I open my eyes, i notice I have a blanket over me that I didn’t put there. I suppose that means Michael must have done it, which seems oddly out of character from the guy I watched slit two people’s throats last night. Still, it was sweet of him I guess.  
I turn to the window behind my sofa, where I expect to see a crow perched on the tall tree that stands outside. There is a crow, but there’s far more than one. There has to be about 50 of them, all sitting in the tree outside of my apartment. Fucking weird, I think.  
I look at my phone, which tells me it’s 11.30. We’re supposed to be there by half one, and it’s about an hours drive, meaning I have to force myself to get ready.  
‘Michael!’ I yell loudly so that he can here me. ‘We leave in an hour. Be ready.’ I get no response.  
An hour later, me and Michael are walking down to my car, me dressed in the same leather jacket I have been wearing for the past 5 years and jeans, and him dressed in a black coat. I wonder if this guy ever wears anything that isn’t black.  
We reach my car when I notice Mark and some of his cronies staring at me from across the street. Mark is the leader of a gang, one of the more dangerous ones around here. I was unfortunate enough to have a couple of run ins with them, ones which they have not been letting me forget. They have been tailing me for the past couple of days now.  
‘Who’s that?’ Michael says, sounding a little concerned.  
‘Don’t worry about it.’ I say, trying to brush it off.  
‘Y/N, who is it and what do they want with you?’ Michael says, sounding a little more intimidating this time.  
Realising he probably wasn’t going to let this go, I say, ‘They are part of a gang. Drug dealers mainly. I owe them money. I have done for a while. Money that I don’t have.’ I say, maybe sounding a little more worried than I intended to. I don’t want Michael to think that I’m not capable of handling this.  
‘What do you owe them money for.’ Michael says.  
‘They are fucking drug dealers, what do you fucking think I owe them money for.’ I snap. This is not a subject I am fond of talking about.  
After a pause, I say, ‘I bought cocaine off them once, ok? Some of it for me, some of it I was going to try to sell to other people. I thought it would be fun. I wasn’t too keen on it though. The problem was, I had only paid them about half of what they wanted for it. They said I could pay back the rest later, but I still don’t have enough. Needless to say they are getting a little impatient now, so they have resorted to trying to intimidate me. Not that I need to explain myself to you, anyway.’  
‘What happens if you don’t pay them back?’ Michael says, still sounding concerned.  
‘Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.’ I say, finishing the conversation.   
As why drive along, Michael starts to look more and more tense.  
‘Don’t worry.’ I say, doing my best to sound comforting. ‘These guys we’re going to see, they believe in all that Satan crap. It won’t take much for you to convince them that you’re the Antichrist. You’ll get this Miss Mead person back.’  
Michael merely nods and continues to look worried.  
‘Is that why you were crying in the woods yesterday? Because she died?’  
‘It wasn’t just her.’ Michael says darkly. ‘It was everyone- every ally I had. Now I have no one.’   
‘How did they die?’ I say.  
‘They were murdered, by the witches.’ Michael says.  
I’d seen reports of so-called witches before, but I had always assumed they were faking it in some way or another.  
‘I’m sorry. About you friends.’ I say bluntly.  
Michael doesn’t say anything, and drive along in silence,  
We pull up outside the building of Kineros Robotics, a long, glass building that stretches for ages. Michael and I begin to walk inside.  
‘Now, remember, these guys may seem like complete idiots at first, but give them a chance. Whatever you want them to build, they can do it.’ I explain.  
‘Are you coming in with me?’ Michael asks.  
‘Yeah, as I said, they’re friends of mine. Well sort of anyway. And I can’t resist the opportunity to make fun of them.’ I say.  
‘Make fun of them?’  
‘Well, they make it incredibly easy. Just to warn you, there’s a good 80% chance there will be some Victoria’s Secret model that’s in the middle of giving one of them a blow job up there. Just do your best to ignore it. It’s one of the perks of being a billionaire I think.’  
Michael looks a little startled by this, but we continue walking anyway.  
Jeff Pfister and Mutt Nutter turn to face us as we walk through the door. They look extremely nervous, which is unusual for them, but then I guess Madelyn and the other Satanists have been hyping Michael up to them. I can’t wait for the moment when they realise Michael is a complete fraud. I’m surprised no one has questioned him already, since he has shown no sign of supernatural abilities whatsoever. The stupidity of some people never fails to amaze me.  
Predictably, there is also a Victoria’s Secret model leaning against the table, although she isn’t giving anyone a blow job.  
‘Michael, meet dumb and dumber.’ I say. I mean what else do they expect to be called getting those haircuts.  
‘Y/N.’ Jeff says, nodding at me, and then turns to look at Michael.  
‘Sorry if she’s been an asshole.’ Mutt says, addressing Michael. ‘She doesn’t believe in any of the Satan stuff. We keep telling her, but she won’t listen.’  
‘Show me some fucking proof and then I’ll listen.’ I say, sitting down next to the model.  
Mutt turns back to Michael and says, ‘Dude, what’s up! Come on in, we’re dying to meet you. Madelyn’s really been talking you up. That lady’s wacked, right?’   
Jeff and Mutt turn to each other and laugh in unison. Michael does not look impressed, and says nothing.   
‘But she’s totally convinced your the one.’ Mutt finishes.  
‘No offence, but I thought you’d be a little bit more jacked, like I was picturing you like totally ripped, like the rock, when he was you know, the rock.’ Jeff says very quickly and stupidly.   
‘No no, that’s like, stereotypical, dude. That’s not cool.’ Mutt says to Jeff disapprovingly.  
Michael turns to look me with an expression that clearly says ‘seriously? These guys?’.  
‘Try to keep an open mind.’ I suggested, trying to suppress my laughter at this whole scenario.   
‘Um, what’s your name again?’ Mutt says to Michael, looking slightly embarrassed.  
‘Michael. Langdon.’ Michael says, speaking for the first time since we entered the room.  
‘Michael Langdon... you gotta admit that’s a little weak, right?’ Mutt says, laughing.  
‘Yeah, shouldn’t be like Bealzabub or some shit? Old scratch?’ Jeff joins in. They both laugh in unison again, and turn to high-five each other, presumably celebrating what they consider to be a great joke.   
This clearly seems to be enough for Michael, not that I blame him. As far as first impressions go, Jeff and Mutt don’t exactly make a great one. Michael turns briskly and begins to walk out of the room. I get up to follow, laughing at Jeff and Mutt as I go.  
‘Woah, woah, dude come back.’ Jeff and Mutt call after us.   
‘We believe you, I just thought I would be like pissing my pants or something, and I am as dry as the Sahara bro.’ Mutt says, checking his pants just to make sure.  
‘Yeah, you gotta look at it from our shoes here, I mean how do we know you’re the Antichrist.’ Jeff says.  
I figure that once Michael shows them the 666 mark, they will begin the usual chant of hail Satan, so I sit back down and prepare to wait it out.   
Michael begins to turn round to show the idiots his mark, when I notice the model sitting next to me jump to attention. She looks petrified. She doesn’t move a muscle. She’s staring directly at Michael. And Michael is starting directly at her.   
‘Yeah, I mean that’s cool, but it’s just a tattoo, bro.’ Mutt says, unimpressed.  
‘It’s true. I can feel the darkness.’ The model suddenly says. I think some one has had a little too much of Jeff and Mutt’s endless supply of cocaine.   
‘It’s making me sick and it’s coming from him.’ The model proclaims, beginning to run for the door. I notice Michael’s eyes roll back into his head.  
Then something truly unexpected happens. Something I can’t explain. When the model is halfway to the door, she bursts into flames. She burns quickly, it barely even lasts a second, but all that’s left is ash.  
‘HOLY SHIT!’ Jeff yells.   
I can’t say anything. I feel cornered, frozen to the spot.   
The lights in the room begin to flicker. Michael turns to look at Jeff and Mutt, and when they see him, they jump back in fright. And then Michael turns to face me.  
Gone are the ocean blue eyes. Instead they are replaced with dark, sunken holes. His skin has gone from creamy to pure white. His entire face looks monstrous. Demonic. He stares at me for what seems like minutes, but it can only have been a few seconds. Then the lights come back on, and everything is as it was. Well, except for the steaming pile of ashes where the model used to be.   
I was wrong. It’s all real. All true. Michael is the one they have all been waiting for. He’s the Antichrist. And he’s currently fucking living with me.  
I am screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading 😈


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:  
Man have I fucked up this time, I think to myself sadly. I have spent the last day being quite rude to someone who it turns out is the most powerful being earth. What’s worse is that he has made me look like a complete moron. I have been left speechless since Michael revealed himself, which is a rarity for me. I can hear Jeff and Mutt talking to Michael, but I don’t register any of it. All I can do is stare at the pile of ashes where that Victoria’s Secret model once stood. How is that even possible? He can kill people by not even lifting a finger, which doesn’t bode well for me. On the bright side, if there is a bright side to this situation, if Michael was planning on incinerating me he probably would have done it already. I blindly follow the three of them as they leave to get lunch. I still haven’t said anything by the time they are sitting down and eating. How the fuck can any of this be possible? How could I have been so fucking stupid? Why did I have to be dragged into this fucking mess-.  
‘Y/N?’ Michael says, interrupting my thought process and jolting me back to attention.  
‘One minute, I’ll be with you once I have finished re-evaluating every belief I ever had.’ I say glumly.  
‘You broke Y/N, bro.’ Mutt says to Michael.  
‘We told you-.’ Jeff starts to say, but I interrupt. ‘Don’t you fucking dare say it.’ I say menacingly.  
‘We told you so.’ Jeff finishes. It takes all my will power not to get up and strangle him right there, but I doubt Michael would be impressive if I destroyed his chance at bringing Miss Mead back.  
They start to continue the conversation they were having before. I decide it may be a good idea to listen, as I am confused enough already.   
‘Why put in the work when there’s no reward, right? And then we learned the secret. The politicians, the billionaires, the elite, they all made a deal to work in Satan’s service.’ Jeff explains.  
‘My dad.’ Michael says.  
‘Exactly, so that’s when we took the plunge too, sold our souls, did the whole black mass thing, now we own a robotics company worth billions. We inhale cocaine like it’s fucking oxygen and we bang Victoria’s Secret models every Tuesday.’ Mutt says happily.  
‘Thursdays we get Ryan Reynolds.’ Jeff adds.  
‘Wait wait wait. You guys don’t have souls? Well I did always wonder how you two fucking idiots managed to build the company. And how you don’t overdose. And you’re telling me that everyone successful really works for Satan? Does everyone know about this? What the actual fuck is happening?’ I say very quickly, trying to reason all of this to myself.  
Nobody pays my rambling any attention.   
‘The point is, it would be an honour to play even a small role in bringing the cosmic skid mark that is planet Earth to a fiery end.’ Mutt says dramatically.  
‘We are your servants, Michael. Now and forever. How can we help?’ Jeff asks, eager to please.   
‘I lost someone very dear to me. My one true ally.’ Michael says, pulling a photo out of his pocket and showing it to Jeff and Mutt. ‘You want to help? Bring her back.’ Michael finishes, pointing at the photo.  
The two of them stare at the photo for a moment, before Mutt says,’You came to the right place. Our AI tech makes Hal-9000 look like a fucking abacus.’  
‘We can whip you up a New right hand lickey split, Blair.’ Jeff says eagerly.  
‘You can?’ Michael says, sounding doubtful.  
‘Tell us everything you remember about her.’ Mutt says.  
Michael starts talking about Miss Mead, and I start to think about the shit tonne of information I have received in the last ten minutes. It’s annoying how a lot of it make sense, especially the part about successful politicians having no souls. Why did Michael choose now to show me he was the Antichrist though? He had all of fucking yesterday and last night, but he has to wait for the exact moment that going to make me look most stupid. Jeff and Mutt are never going to let me forget this.   
Jeff and Mutt head back inside, presumably to start at once on making Miss Mead into some kind of android. This leaves me and Michael alone.  
‘Are we just going to spend the night here then, if you don’t plan on taking us back to yours.’ Michael says after a moment.  
‘You- you fucking manipulative bastard.’ I start to say but I’m so angry I can’t even get the words out. What surprises me most is I don’t want to just run away and leave him here. I’m not scared of him. I’m angry at him, but all I really want to do is know more about him, which makes me even angrier. I shouldn’t be so interested. Michael stares at me, preparing himself for me to rant at him. Instead I just sigh.  
‘Come on then.’ I say, getting up. However, I have no intention of taking him back to mine yet. I have a few questions I need answered first.  
I don’t ask him anything on the way home, as I’m still making a mental list of all the questions I have. Michael looks rather pleased with himself. He thinks he has gotten away with manipulating me into letting him stay. How adorable.  
I drive to a little park I know, that’s mostly just a little patch of grass and a playground.   
‘Get out.’ I say to Michael, undoing my seat belt.  
‘Where are we?’ Michael asks, confused. I don’t answer.   
I grab two bottles of vodka that are in the back of my car. I keep a lot of it back there in case of emergencies.  
I get out the car, and Michael follows. I go to sit on the little patch of grass, and gesture at Michael to come join me.  
‘Look, here’s what’s going to happen: you are going to tell me everything. Everything about you and what you can do, everything about your plans, everything you know about your dad. You are not going to lie, and I will know if you do. If I feel that you have given me enough information, and I have judged whether or not I can be bothered to put up with your crap, I will let you stay. If not, consider yourself evicted.’ I say forcefully.   
Michael pauses for a moment, considering my offer. ‘Ok.’ He says.  
I hand him one of the vodka bottles.  
‘What’s this for?’ Michael asks.  
‘It’s for you to drink, Michael. This is what us regular humans do, we drink away our problems. For example, I will be drinking away an existential crisis, and you will be drinking away any Antichrist problems you may have.’ I say, taking a gulp of my bottle. ‘As the incredibly wise Homer Simpson once said, alcohol is the cause of and solution to all of life’s problems. Drink.’ I tell Michael, which he does.  
‘Start with something easy. Where were you born? Who was the unlucky bastard that had to raise you?’  
‘I was born in Los Angeles.’ Michael says, taking another drink. ‘My grandmother raised me.’  
‘And what happened to her?’ I ask.  
‘She killed herself. In the house with all the spirits. She didn’t want to talk to me even though she could have.’  
‘I’m confused already.’  
‘There was this house, the house that I was born in, that had the spirits of everyone who had died there in it. Including my dad, who told me that I was evil and that he didn’t want to know me, my mother, who tried to murder me in my sleep, and a man named Ben Harmon, who gave up on me.’ Michael says, looking thoroughly depressed.  
‘So not exactly a happy family then?’  
Michael laughs a little, and then says,’Not particularly. My grandma decided to join the rest of the departed souls there and took a bunch of pills. I found her dead in there a couple of hours later.’   
‘I thought you were a little bit whiny and annoying, but I wouldn’t have gone that far. What did you do to make her do that?’  
Michael looks like he doesn’t want to say, but he knows I won’t stop asking until he tells me. ‘I killed a Priest that my grandma had called over. I slashed his throat. She thought he could help. She thought there was something.... wrong with me.’  
‘She wasn’t wrong, mate.’ I say jokingly.  
‘I think in the end she had just had enough of cleaning up my messes. She was scared of me too, especially I tried to strangle her in the middle of the night.’ Michael adds casually.  
‘If that was the case, I think her dislike of you was fairly well justified.’ I say.  
‘I apologised after!’ Michael says defensively. ‘She wouldn’t speak to me after I found her dead. She could have done, her spirit was in the house. But she chose not to.’  
‘So Satan is real, ghosts are real, anything else you should warn me about? Vampires, maybe?’ I say.  
‘Well, witches and warlocks are real. I’m not sure about vampires, but I don’t see why they can’t be real.’ Michael reasons.  
‘So after your grandma left you, where did you go?’  
‘I stayed at the house. Ben Harmon raised me. He was a spirit in the house. He was married to my mother, but he wasn’t my father. He always said he thought of me as his son.’ Michael says fondly. ‘I tried to be good, for awhile. For him. I tried. But then my real dad said that I was evil, monstrous, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. Ben left me too, because I lost control and erased the souls of a couple that had tried to move into the house. I really thought he was different, that he would understand, but he left anyway.’ Michael sounds almost close to tears now. I can’t help but feel a little bad for him.  
‘Keep, drinking, it will make it easier.’ I say. ‘So that’s abandonment and rejection by three potential parental figures. I’m sensing a pattern. Who was your real dad? The one that isn’t Satan, anyway.’  
‘His name was Tate Langdon, and-.’  
‘I swear I’ve heard that name before.’ I cut in.  
‘He shot up a high school, when he was alive. He was killed by the police in the house.’ Michael explains.  
‘And he called you evil? Bit rich coming from him, don’t you think?’  
Michael looks quite happy that I said that.  
‘Anyway, where did you go after that?’ I ask.  
‘I stayed in the house. Even though I had no one there, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Then one night, I went downstairs to find a man named Anton Lavey, the Black Pope of the Church of Satan, and his two cardinals. One of whom was my Miss Mead.’ Michael says. ‘They explained everything to me. About who I really was and about my dad. Up until then, I didn’t know what I was. They showed me what I had to do. Miss Mead took me in, after I had to leave the house because my mother tried to murder me.’  
‘Why did your mum try to murder you?’ I say, asking the obvious question.  
‘The Satanists performed a black mass in the house. I ate human heart. I assumed it was because she had become scared of me.’ Michael says.  
‘You know, I think you might be right.’ I laugh. ‘What happened next? How did Miss Mead end up dead?’  
‘I never really knew how to control my magic, back then. It would explode out of me when I got angry or scared. I murdered a man for being rude to Miss Mead. I stabbed him by making five knives move with my mind. The police weren’t so happy about that, so I got arrested. The officer interrogating me started hurting me, smashing my head against the table. I was scared, I didn’t know what to do, so I broke all of his limbs and exploded his head.’ Michael says, as if there were a perfectly normal thing to do.  
‘While I was in jail, a man approached me. He said his name was Ariel Augustus, and that we had a warlock and he thought that I was one to. He took me out of jail, and to his school. The Hawthorn School for Exceptional Young Men. That’s where I learnt how to control my magic.’  
‘Like Hogwarts?’ I ask excitedly. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to a place like that. Can you take me?’   
‘No, because everyone inside is currently plotting a way to have me killed.’  
‘Oh.’ I say, a little disappointed. ‘Well, what kind of stuff did you learn to do there?’  
‘I completed all of the seven wonders.’  
‘The seven whats? You’re going to have to explain these kind of things in a bit more detail.’  
‘The seven wonders are different abilities you have to have you want to become Supreme, which is the most powerful of all the witches and warlocks. They are things like telekinesis, pyrokinesis, concilium.’  
‘I know what the first two are, but what’s the third one. Concilium?’  
‘It’s being able to control someone else.’  
Michael says.  
‘Mind control. I swear if you ever try to do that to me, I will shoot you in the head.’  
‘How could you shoot me in the head if I was controlling you?’ Michael says, smiling.  
I sigh, and say,’ I thought you said there were seven. What are the other things?’  
‘Divination, descesum.’ He pauses for a moment and then says, ‘Transmutation.’ He disappears in the blink of an eye. I am momentarily confused, when I feel a little tap on my shoulder. Michael is standing behind me.  
‘I’m going to assume that’s a fancy word for teleporting.’ I laugh.  
‘The last one is Vitalum Vitalis.’ He says. He reaches up near a fly that is buzzing around him, and then squashes it in his hand. He concentrates for a moment, and then opens his hand. The fly is unharmed, and hurried away.  
‘Bringing things back to life.’ I say to show I understand. But that doesn’t make sense. ‘Hang on a minute. If you can bring things back to life, why can’t you bring back your Miss Mead person?’  
I can see the tears start to form again in Michael’s eyes. ‘The witches, when they found out she was my ally, they burned her alive, along with every other ally I had. They trapped and hid her soul in Hell. I can’t bring her back if I can’t find her there.’  
‘Hell is real? Does everyone go there?’ I ask, trying to hide my concern.  
‘Most people.’ Michael says. ‘I’ve been down there. That’s what descensum is, being able to transport yourself to Hell. Everyone has their own personal Hell. Your worst fears or worst memories playing on repeat for all eternity. Most people don’t even understand what’s going on.’ Michael says fondly.  
‘I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming. I didn’t think Hell would be real.’  
I say.  
‘Why not?’ Michael asks.  
‘I always figured that this life was shitty enough that the afterlife had to at least be a bit of an improvement. I guess not. Is heaven real? Not that I’m going there.’ I say.  
‘No, you aren’t. I don’t know if heaven is real or not, as I can’t go there if it is.’ Michael responds. ‘Are you afraid? Of what you’re going to see when you go down there?’ Michael asks, smiling and leaning in towards me.  
‘What did you do to make the witches want you dead?’ I ask, trying to change the topic.  
‘After I passed the seven wonders, no of them wanted me as Supreme. They found out who I really was, and they were even less happy about having me in the coven after that. That’s when they murdered everyone who was trying to help me.’ Michael says, sounding sad.   
‘I’m sorry.’ I say, trying my best to sound empathetic.  
‘She offered me a chance, the Supreme of the witches. Her name is Cordelia Goode. She said she saw that I had humanity in me. She said we could find it together.’  
‘I assume you refused that offer. I’m surprised she thought that that was going to work, since she had just killed the only person you cared about. What did you say to her?’ I ask.  
‘I told her that I would bring Miss Mead back. And that after I did, I was going to kill her and every single member of her coven.’ Michael says.  
‘Hence why you are in her bad books. Well, I’m all caught up now. I have a couple more questions though. Do you really plan on destroying the world?’ I ask, though I think I already know the answer.  
‘Yes. That’s what I have to do. But I don’t know how.’ Michael says.  
‘Well, I think it’s long overdue, the destruction of the world.’ I say. ‘Human beings deserve nothing less.’  
‘Really? What about all the good people?’ Michael asks.   
‘There are no good people, Michael. Everyone is the same, if you push them hard enough. Everyone is evil. So try not to judge yourself too harshly. I know you said you wanted to be good, when you were talking about Ben, but no one is truly good. I’m not even sure if most people understand what being a good human being means.’ I say, really meaning it.  
‘One other thing: why did you wait to show me who you were? Why not tell me earlier?’  
‘I wanted to see what you would do, if I showed you the darkest part of my magic. I was checking to see if you would run away. You didn’t disappoint me.’ Michael explains. ‘I saw something different in you, yesterday in the woods. I can see things in everyone, their dark places, their fears and their most deranged desires and the worst things they have done. I look at you and I see a darkness, but I can’t see anything else. You keep your dark places so well hidden even I can’t see them. That’s what made me decide to go with you. I’d never seen anything like you before.’ He leans forward and puts his hand on my cheek. ‘I want you to show me who you are. Show me your fears and all the evil things you have done. Show me your darkness.’  
I’m not letting this guy get in my head, I tell myself. The more he knows, the easier it will be for him to take advantage of me.  
I slap his hand away and say, ‘I’ve known you for about a day, why would I tell you all of my secrets?’   
‘I just told you my entire life story.’ He says, sounding hurt.  
‘You chose to do that.’ I say unsympathetically.  
We sit in silence for a moment. I just felt like we were getting somewhere, and now it’s awkward again.   
‘What did you do to that girl? The model?’ I ask quietly.  
‘I erased her soul.’ Michael says.  
‘Is that any different from dying?’   
‘Yes. If you have no soul, you can’t go anywhere after you die. Not to heaven or hell. You’re just gone.’ Michael replies casually.  
‘Sounds better than eternal torture I guess.’ I say with a sigh. I lay down on the grass in front of Michael. ‘Is that everything you can do? Is there anything else I should know about?’   
Michael considers for a moment, and says, ‘I know how to make it snow.’  
‘Show me. Come on, there’s no one else around.’ I say.  
Michael reaches both his hands up into the air and closes his eyes. Sure enough, moments later, tiny white flakes begin to fall down on top of us. Everyone else in the park is green, but the small patch of grass where we’re sitting is now covered in white. The snows lands gently on my face, making it tingle from the cold. It really has quite a calming effect.   
‘As beautiful as this is Michael, I may get hyperthermia if this goes on much longer.’ I say after a few minutes, smiling.  
Michael smiles back at me and promptly stood the snow from falling.  
‘I’ve decided you aren’t evicted.’ I say.  
‘Thank you.’ Michael says. ‘I’m sorry. That I am this way.’  
‘You don’t have to apologise. You are who you are. You didn’t choose this. Nobody can ask you to change it.’ I say, standing up and offering him my hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go home.’ He grabs my hand and I pull him to his feet.  
‘Hey, want to watch The Omen when we get back? I’m sure you’ll find it funny. It’s about a kid who is the Antichrist.’ I say.  
Michael smiles and says, ‘I’m sure I will.’ We both get into the car, slamming the doors shut. We drive away, leaving only a little patch of rapidly melting snow behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading 😈😈


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:  
As much as I hate to admit, I’m starting not to dislike Michael. I kind of respect him, in a way. He’s lost so much in such a short time, and yet he refuses to give up. Most people would have. I did. He also has a set of pretty amazing powers, and that makes him the most exciting thing going on in my life by a considerable margin.   
We drive back to mine actually talking instead of the usual uncomfortable silence.  
‘So what would happen if someone chucked holy water on you? Or put a cross on your forehead and yelled THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU or whatever that shit is?’ I ask jokingly.  
‘The only person that ever tried I murdered before he really got anywhere, so I don’t know.’ Michael says with a malicious smile.  
‘Oh don’t act all hard. What’s your kill count at anyway, like five people? Not very impressive considering you’re supposed to be ending the entire world.’ I tease.  
‘It’s nine. And who are you to judge, you have killed no one.’ Michael says.  
‘Twenty-nine, actually.’ I say casually. ‘You’re slacking.’  
‘Are you going to go into anymore detail about these twenty nine fucking people you’ve so callously murdered?’ Michael says, looking very interested.  
‘Maybe one day.’ I say.  
We arrive back at my apartment and as promised, we start watching The Omen. Instead of laughing like I thought, Michael seems like he is playing close attention.   
‘You’re really that lost for ideas, huh?’ I say.  
‘There’s not a lot of places I can get any useful information on how to be the Antichrist from.’ Michael says sounding extremely frustrated.  
‘I’m not judging you. I wouldn’t know what to do either.’ I say quietly.  
‘Miss Mead, she always told me what I needed to do. Without her, I’m completely lost.’ Michael says.  
‘You’ll have her back in two days. Well, sort off, anyway.’ I say trying my best to comfort him. We go back to watching the movie. Michael seems to have some abandonment issues; he can barely function without someone telling him what he needs to do next. I’m surprised he’s not a lot more untrusting at this point, a everyone he has ever cared about has left him at some point, his grandma, his dad, Miss Mead. Maybe he’s just desperate to have someone with him so he doesn’t feel alone. It can’t be much fun knowing that your sole purpose in life is to end the world.  
By the time The Omen 3 comes on, the alcohol catches up with me and I start to feel very tired. I lean over onto Michael, resting my head in his shoulder. He doesn’t tell me to get off, so I assume he doesn’t have a problem with it. I fall asleep within minutes.  
In the morning I find myself still leaning on Michael, only he is asleep too. I get up and decide to do something nice by making breakfast for the both of us. Well, try to anyway. Cooking has never been my strong point. I certainly hope the Antichrist doesn’t have high standards when it comes to food. I fortunately have enough items to make pancakes, which seems simple enough when I have watched other people do it before. It turns out I was over estimating my very limited ability. Michael wakes up to sound of me cursing at a very burnt pancake.  
‘What are you doing?’ He asks, looking amused.  
‘Trying to cook.’ I say angrily. ‘Emphasis on the trying part.’ I realise I have now failed so many times I have run out of ingredients. ‘Well there goes that idea.’ I say with a sigh.  
‘What are we doing today?’ Michael asks.  
‘Nothing. Well I had an idea. But it won’t be fun.’ I say.  
‘What?’ Michael asks, looking mildly concerned.  
‘Do you know where Miss Mead’s body is? Because I was thinking, if you do, we should bury her. You know, kind of do a funeral thing. It would be kind of disrespectful not to. She did die for your cause, after all.’ I say carefully, not wanting to upset him.  
Michael considers what I have said for a moment.   
‘I know where she is.’ He says after a while.  
‘Ok. I’m going to get ready, and then we’ll leave in about half an hour.’ I say.  
As we are walking to the car, I see Mark and some of his cronies staring at me from across the street. They are getting more and more persistent.  
‘You’re going to have to direct me.’ I say to Michael as we are getting into the car.  
‘Ok.’ He says. Other than giving me directions, Michael doesn’t say anything else. I assume it’s because he’s dreading what he’s about to see. It can’t help that the body won’t be in the best state as it was burned. It’s got to hurt, seeing your loved one like that.  
We arrive at some kind of pit. It stretches out for about a hundred metres, but straight away you can see the three stakes towards the further end of it. Michael walks extremely slowly to the end where the stakes are. I grab his arm and stop him for a moment.  
‘Look I know you don’t want to do this but I think it’s important that you do.’ I say. He doesn’t say anything back, but I can tell he knows that I’m right.  
When we do get there, Michael stares at the floor and won’t look at the bodies. There are three of them, all black and charred and not smelling great.  
‘She’s the one in the middle.’ Michael says, sounding like he is crying.  
I gather by this he expects me to remove her body from the stake, which isn’t going to be a pleasant job. I’ve never been squeamish, but this is just fucking disgusting.  
‘Who are the other two?’ I ask, trying to make a conversation to distract myself from what I am currently touching.  
‘Ariel Augustus and Baldwin Pennypacker. They were the warlocks who were helping me.’ Michael says, still not looking up.  
‘Do you want to take them too?’ I ask.  
‘No. I don’t want to be here any longer than we need to.’ Michael says.  
I put Miss Mead’s remains in a garbage bag and carry back to the car. I drive to a nice quiet spot in the woods that I think Michael will like.  
‘That’s a good spot over there, by that tree.’ I say.  
Michael nods to show his approval. I think if he says anything he will just start crying, and I assume he is just trying to hold himself together. I start to dig a hole, which a lot harder than it looks, so I don’t make it very deep. I take Miss Mead’s skeleton out of the bag, and arrange it in the home before I start to fill it in. Michael sits a good couple of metres away from where I am working, and doesn’t look over at all.   
‘I’m done. Do you want to come over and say a few words?’ I call to Michael.  
‘Say a few words?’ He asks as he is getting up to come over.  
‘You know, say goodbye, say things you wish you could have told her when she was alive.’ I say.  
Michael stares at the filled in a hole for a moment, trying to gather his words.  
‘I never really got to say thank you. For always helping me, no matter what I asked you to do. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I thought I would always be able to bring you back, that you would always be around to help me,’ It’s at this point Michael complete breaks down and starts crying really heavily. He sounds like he can’t quite get his words out anymore. So I do the only thing I can think of, and I take his hand. Just to let him know that I’m here. He turns to look at me, those beautiful ocean blue eyes meeting mine. And he slowly stats to calm down. It takes a few minutes but he gets there. He manages to finish what he was saying.  
‘I wanted you to know that I’m very grateful to you. You made me who I am, you saved him. I loved you so much, and I’m sorry. That I can’t bring you back. But I hope you knew how much you meant to me.’ Michael says, tears still cascading down his cheeks.  
‘Well done. That was so, so brave of you. See? You’re a lot stronger than you think.’ I say, smiling at him.  
He turns to me and smiles back, wiping one final tear away. We start to walk back to the car, his hand still intertwined with mine.  
As soon as we get back to mine, Michael walks into my room and slams the door. I guess he wants you be alone for a while, which is fair enough. After a couple of hours, I start to get concerned. He hasn’t left the room at all. I wonder if I should go and check if he’s ok. It’s weird how I find myself missing him. How I felt yesterday when we were together, especially when he made it snow, and when I was comforting him earlier, it’s the first real thing I’ve felt in years. It may have actually been something close to happiness. It’s a nice change, because I just usually feel numb, because I have to block out all the other feelings, the guilt, the regret. Maybe it’s not Michael I miss, just the way I feel around him.  
I decide it might be best to check on him. I knock first, to be polite.  
‘Michael? Are you ok? You’ve been in there for fucking ages.’ I say. He doesn’t answer. I decide to go in anyway, it is my room after all.  
‘Michael?’ I say as I enter my room. I take one step in before stopping in horror. Every cupboard, every drawer is flung open and everything is emptied out of them. Everything that I own is either spread across the floor, or piled up on my bed. Michael sits in the centre of it all, looking at some old photos that I keep. Photos of my family. Photos that I definitely do not want him to see.  
‘Who are the people in this?’ Michael says casually, as if he is unaware that he has just done something very wrong. He holds up a photo that contains me, my brother, my sister and my parents. ‘And who is this boy?’ He adds, holding up another photo of me and a dark haired, tall boy together.  
I stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to apologise or something. He doesn’t. I walk forward and rip the photos from his hand.  
‘What the fuck do you think you are doing? You’ve gone through all of my fucking stuff.’ I shout at him. ‘These,’ I say holding up the photos, ‘are private. They are none of your fucking business. What made you think you had any fucking right to look at any of this. God, every time, every single fucking time that I think that there is a chance of us getting along, you fucking do something like this.’ I yell with force.  
‘I’m sorry.’ Michael says, looking genuinely upset. ‘I won’t do it again.’ Tears begin to fill his eyes. He looks very sorry. He sounds very sorry. But I don’t buy it.  
‘This is just what you do isn’t it? You make people care, you get into their head, and then you screw them over. And you wonder why every single fucking person you love leaves you. It’s because you deserve it.’ I say quietly.   
As I turn to leave the room, I am suddenly hurled across it by some unseen force. I smack my head on wall as I land, knocking over a pile of my stuff as I do. I realise that the unseen force was Michael. He is trembling in anger, tears running down his face. His face flickers between the one with ocean blue eyes and the demonic one with black pits. For a moment I think he may just erase my soul right then and there, but he just stares at me. I slowly clamber to my feet.  
‘Did you just fucking seriously telekinetically throw me across my room?’ I say angrily. ‘Right. I’m going out. And you better be fucking gone when I get back. Go to your Satanist buddies, go back to the forest, I don’t give a fuck. Just don’t be here.’ I say. I walk straight out of my apartment, not wanting to see the look on Michael’s face. I make sure to slam the door loudly as I go.   
I can’t believe this. He knew that I wanted to keep all my past a secret, but he went looking for answers anyway. I knew he would do this, try to get in my head. I can’t let that happen, no matter how exciting being with him feels sometimes. I will just have to try not to think about him.  
I walk for a couple of blocks, until I find a nice quiet spot on a bench by the side of a road. I sit down and breath heavily, trying not to start sobbing. Those people in the photos don’t exactly bring back happy memories. Their faces and Michael’s all flash through my head, and I break down. I sit their crying for a good 15 minutes. Sometimes it is best just to let it all out. After I’ve calmed down a bit, I sit there and think about Michael and how he won’t be there when I get back. I wonder if chucking him out is the best idea. To be fair to him, it sounds like he never had a great role model to teach him common decency. Maybe he just doesn’t know any better. It’s too late now, though, he’s probably already gone.  
With a sigh, I start to walk back. I make it a few blocks before I notice that there are a group of people following me. I think it might be Mark, coming to collect the money I owe him. The money I don’t have. What’s even better is that because I left so suddenly, I left my gun at my apartment. I fucking knew Michael would be the death of me.  
They corner me just outside the entrance to my apartment. There’s about ten of them, giving me no opportunity at all to try to run away. I’m even more concerned about dying than I would be, considering I now know where I’m heading after.  
‘I fucking told you, I’ll have it by the end of the month.’ I say as convincingly as I can to Mark. He’s a good foot taller than me, and is standing a lot closer to me than I would like, so close in fact I can feel his breath on my face. I’m backed up against a wall. I can’t move.  
‘You said that last month. We were just on our way over here when we saw you. Think we’ll go take whatever you have in your apartment after we’re done here.’ Mark says maliciously, pulling his handgun out of his pocket.  
‘Just give me a couple more days.’ I plead. Normally I would try harder to talk myself out of this, but I’m so intimidated I can’t think of anything to say.  
Mark starts to back away from me a bit, and lifts his handgun so it’s pointing at my chest. ‘No, I don’t think I will.’ He says. Right as he says this, I notice one of his henchmen burst into flames. Several of the other henchmen notice this too, as it isn’t the most inconspicuous thing in the world.   
‘WHAT THE FUCK.’ One of them screams, backing away as the guy turns to ash. We all stare at the pile of dust for a moment, until another one bursts into flames. Michael steps around the corner, a triumphant look in his eye.  
A couple of the henchmen try to shoot him, but he stops the bullets mid-air and sends them flying back towards the people who had fired them. One by one, all of them start to turn to fames.  
While everyone is fairly distracted by Michael’s eventful arrival, I grab the nearest henchman to me, punch him in the jaw and grab his gun while he howls in pain. Hurriedly, I pull the trigger multiple times, and one bullet goes straight through his head, killing him instantly. ‘That brings my kill count to a solid thirty.’ I think happily.  
I hear another gunshot go off, thinking it must be another one aimed at Michael. It’s when I notice Mark is aiming his gun at me and that there’s thick, red blood running down me that I realise I have been shot right through the chest.  
‘Oh fuck.’ I think sadly as fall backwards onto the floor. ‘There’ll be no surviving this.’ I lie there for a couple a seconds, and the last thing I notice is that it has started raining, before I feel myself being dragged downward. Everything goes dark for a second, but when I can see again I’m not lying on the floor outside my apartment.  
I’m standing in the old children’s playground, where I used come every day when I lived back in Chicago. It looks just as I remember it, a rusty slide, a rickety set of swings. It may not be much, but it always felt like home. I feel safe for a moment, before I notice him. It makes sense he would be here. After all, this is where him and I always spent time together.  
He walks over to me, pushing his dark hair out of his face like he always used to do. He comes up to me, and shoves a gun into my hands. He used to do that a lot as well.  
He stands next to me, pushes my hair back behind my ear and whispers, ‘You know you have to. If we’re going to stay together, you know you have to do it. Do you want me to leave without you?’  
I start raising the gun that’s in my hand, and point it at another person who is stood at the other end of the playground. I realise who they are. It’s my older sister. Beside her stands my brother, and then my mother and my father. I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to kill them, but I have to. He’s making me. I have no choice. My hands trembling, I pull the trigger. Just as I hear the gunshot go off, I’m pulled sharply upwards.  
Rain is coming down hard, hitting me in the face and soaking me completely. I realise I’m still lying on the ground outside my apartment. I also realise I can’t breath properly. I start struggling to sit up, when I feel someone push my back and prop me against the wall. I’m gasping for air, and I can barely see anything because of the rain, but I know it must be Michael.   
I feel him sit down beside me and take my hand. I eventually manage to slow my breathing down.   
I turn to Michael and meet his blue eyes, which surprisingly are full of worry and concern. He’s soaked to the bone too, his blonde hanging all around his face, but he seems unbothered.  
‘I just died, didn’t I?’ I say, not even sure if I want to know the answer.  
‘Yes. But I brought you back. It’s ok. You’re going to be ok.’ He says, gripping my hand tighter.  
‘Was that Hell?’ I ask.   
‘Yes.’ Michael says gently.  
He doesn’t ask what I saw, maybe because he knows I won’t want to talk about it. I notice a line of blood being washed away into the drains, along with quite a lot of the ash. I also see something in Michael’s other hand. A bouquet of flowers.  
‘What are those for?’ I ask, still trembling.  
‘There were for you.’ Michael says quietly. ‘They still are for you. I got them to prove to you that I’m sorry, that I’m not just trying to manipulate you. I was going to give them to you when you came back, but when I got back here I noticed these men attacking you. You can still have them if you want.’ He says, offering them to me.  
I take them, even though they are now covered in blood and ash. They aren’t a very normal apology present, but for me they are perfect.  
‘Thank you.’ I say, smiling.  
‘I am sorry. For looking through your things. I just wanted to know more about you. I realise I should have just asked.’ Michael says, genuinely meaning it.  
‘It’s ok.’ I say. I really can’t be mad at him now, he just saved me from Hell. I’ll deal with it another time. ‘I’m sorry for saying you deserved to have everyone leave you. That was a bit harsh.’   
‘It’s ok.’ Michael says smiling at me. Tears are still running down my cheeks, so Michael puts his hand on my face and wipes one of them away with his thumb. It’s then that he leans in to kiss me.  
I wasn’t quite prepared for that, so at first the kiss is clumsy, but as soon as my mind catches up with what is happening and I begin to kiss him back, it feels right. I mean, we’re both covered in blood, a lot of it my blood, and there is rain everywhere, but it works.  
‘Come on.’ I say, pulling away from the kiss, getting to my feet and pulling Michael up with me. I take him back into the apartment. As soon as we get inside, Michael pushes me against the wall, and begins to kiss me again. I lead him straight to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as I go.

 

Well I just fucked the Antichrist, and it was pretty incredible.   
Both me and Michael are awake and lying next to each other, and neither of us can stop smiling. I suddenly realise that all of my stuff that was out earlier has been put away, meaning Michael must have done it himself. He really isn’t that bad after all.  
I keep thinking about how I finally feel like I have a purpose. To help Michael. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to do, just like how Michael is supposed to destroy the world. A couple of days ago, my existence was completely meaningless, but now I could actually do things. I could change the world. And want could possibly be more exciting than that?  
‘Count me in. For your whole apocalypse thing. I want to help, in anyway I can.’ I say, staring at Michael.  
‘I knew you would.’ Michael says, and he puts his arm around me, pulling me closer to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading 😈


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

I wake up pretty early the next morning, and Michael is still asleep next to me. I thought I would spend the night having terrifying dreams of my experience in Hell, but I didn’t. I think it’s because I had Michael here with me. He makes me feel kind of safe, which is ironic considering that he will soon bring about the destruction of the entire world.  
I really hope this wasn’t a one night kind of thing. It’s been ages since I felt anything as strong as I did last night, and I’m not ready to let go of it yet. Now that I have volunteered to help Michael with his apocalypse though I suppose I can expect him to be in my life for quite some time. Which is perfect.  
I hear a text come through on my phone, and I see that it’s Jeff. Miss Mead is ready. Fuck my life. I was just getting to know Michael, and know he’s probably going to move back in with her. God, is this what I have become. I’m jealous of a fucking robot.  
I nudge Michael until he wakes up.  
‘Jeff just texted me. Your robot is ready. We can go pick her any time we’re ready.’ I say, smiling and trying to hide the bitterness in my voice.  
‘Really?’ Michael says, looking excited. ‘We’re going now.’ He gets out of bed and starts to get dressed. I drag myself out of bed, and get dressed a lot slower than Michael does. I find him waiting for me on the sofa.  
‘Are you alright?’ He asks, sounding concerned. I guess he must have noticed that something was up.  
‘Yeah, I guess, I’m just going to miss you. When you move back in with Miss Mead.’ I say trying not to sound completely pathetic.  
He smiles and moves over to me. He brushes the hair back of my face, and kisses me as passionately as he did last night.  
‘You’re going to come and live with us. I want you near me. You’re going to be very useful for the plan. In order for it to work, I need you by my side. And I enjoy your company.’ He says, grinning at me.  
I must have gone bright red. I kiss him back, and say, ‘I enjoy your company too.’  
Michael heads to the door, about to leave.  
‘Wait!’ I call out to him. ‘There’s something I have to do first.’ I pick up my phone and ring Morningstar bar, the place of my employment.  
‘Hi Jerry.’ I say when he answers the phone. Jerry is the manager of the bar, and a complete asshole.   
‘Where the fuck have you been for the last two fucking days?’ Jerry says, sounding slightly angry.  
‘I’ve been busy with more important things. I just wanted to let you know that I quit.’ I say happily.  
‘You fucking what? Quit? You can’t quit, because you’re fired.’ Jerry yells.  
‘That works for me, Jerry. I have other obligations now. And just to give you a heads up, the world is going to be coming to an end shortly. Try not to waste the short time you have left, you pathetic wanker. Have a nice day.’ I say, and hung up before Jerry has time to come up with a comeback.   
‘Well that was satisfying. Shall we?’ I say to Michael, opening the front door and taking his hand.

‘So, I murdered nine more people last night. I’m catching up with you.’ Michael says jokingly in the car.  
‘Don’t be a show off. I have to say though, that was pretty badass, the way you erased their souls one by one. You should have seen the look on their faces, it was priceless.’ I say.  
‘I’m sorry I didn’t manage to kill everyone in time to stop them from killing you. I know Hell wouldn’t have been nice for you.’ Michael says.  
‘Is Hell really nice for anyone?’ I ask.  
‘I like it down there. I’ve been down there twice, once to rescue Madison Montgomery, and then a second time to rescue Misty Day.’  
‘Madison Montgomery as in the actress? Why the fuck were you saving her. She can act about as well as I can cook.’ I say, laughing.  
‘I was trying to prove to the witch council that I was powerful enough to get them to allow to perform the seven wonders.’ He says.  
‘You know, in hindsight, showing the extent of your power to the witches may not of been the best idea. If you hadn’t, they wouldn’t be trying to kill you right now.’ I say.  
Michael thinks about this for a moment.  
‘I suppose you’re right, but I was just doing what Miss Mead’s and the other warlocks told me to do.’  
‘Well, that plan went to hell. So did the warlocks. Literally.’ I joke. ‘How do you plan to murder all the witches.’  
‘What do you mean?’ Michael asks.  
‘What are you going, just stroll into their school? They’re going to be ready for you. And I don’t claim to be an expert at magic or anything, but they may have found a way to stop you from getting in there.’  
‘I have a way around that.’ Michael says, smiling sinisterly. ‘Would you like to help me when I go to Miss Robichaux’s Academy to destroy the witches?’  
‘So it’s like I’m getting to go to Hogwarts, but I have to kill a Harry, Ron and Hermione.’ I say, considering his offer. ‘Sure. Should be fun.’ I laugh.

We arrive at Kineros Robotics, and go straight up to see Jeff and Mutt. I can tell that Michael is really anxious to get there and make sure Miss Mead’s has been rebuilt properly.  
Jeff and Mutt are gathered around a table that has a white sheet covering something lying on top of it. Mutt peels the sheet off, to reveal Miss Mead. She looks exactly like she did in all of the photos I’ve seen of her. Michael looks very impressed.  
‘240 terabytes of memory, over 11,000 processor cores. She could kick the asses of every roided up actor in the Expendables franchise.’ Mutt says proudly.  
‘She’s amazing.’ Michael says, examining Miss Mead. ‘Why is she so cold?’ He asks.  
‘Oh that’ll change with the flip of her on switch.   
Jeff says something complicated about a lithium battery, before explaining it so the non-scientists here can understand it.  
‘Basically the energizer bunny’s wet dream. We fire her up, she goes on forever.’   
‘Just don’t tell her she’s a bio-mechanical humanoid. At least not at first. It’ll send her into the mother of all existential crises. She could end up killing herself, maybe others. Seriously, I’ve seen it happen.’ Mutt proclaims dramatically. ‘Not worth the headache.’ He adds, laughing.  
‘Annnnnnd now, Kineros Robotics proudly presents: Miriam Mead 2.0.’ Mutt says as Jeff frantically types away on a laptop.   
‘Don’t expect her to be back to her old self right away.’ Mutt adds. It’s going to take her time. She needs to learn from you, build a rapport, just like any relationship.’  
Robo-Mead’s fingers and toes start to twitch a little bit. Her eyes flicker open and stare curiously around the tech-filled room. As soon as her eyes meet Michael, she sits up.   
‘How I’ve missed you, Michael.’ She says fondly, reaching out to touch his face.  
Michael looks thrilled. He leans forward and hugs her. ‘I’ve missed you too. More than you could know.’ He says.  
‘Maybe you two should have some time to chat.’ Jeff says.   
‘We’ll go for a walk Michael says. He turns to me, and kisses me right on the mouth. I wasn’t aware we were making our little thing public knowledge, so this takes me a little by surprise. Clearly I’m not the only one. I see Jeff drop his coffee cup out of the corner of my eye, and Mutt jump back in surprise.  
‘I’ll come and find you later.’ Michael says once he has finished, seeming blissfully unaware of the drama he has just caused.  
‘Ok. Have fun.’ I say awkwardly. I’m never going to hear the end of this.  
Sure enough, as soon as Miss Mead and Michael are out of the room, Jeff and Mutt bombard me with questions.  
‘What the fuck was that.’ Jeff says sounding very shocked.  
‘Have you two banged?’ Mutt asks eagerly.  
‘I don’t see how it’s any of your business.’ I say stiffly.  
‘Was he good?’ Jeff asks.  
‘A hell of a lot better than either of you two were.’ I say. They don’t ask anymore questions after that.  
Michael and Miss Mead return about half an hour later. We’re going to take Miss Mead back to her house. Well at least I am, as I’m the one doing all the driving.  
‘Are you sure she’s going to be cool with me living with you?’ I say to Michael.  
‘If knows that’s what I want, she will be.’ Michael says with certainty.  
We drive back to Miss Mead house, which is fairly normal. She gets out of the car and walks up to the house, and finds a key that was stashed underneath a rock to let herself in. Clearly Jeff and Mutt know what they are doing, as robot Mead seems to know everything about the real Miss Mead’s life.  
‘You go back to your apartment and pack up your stuff, and then come back here.’ Michael says. ‘I would help you, but need to spend time with Miss Mead so she learns quicker.’  
‘It’s fine, I can do it on my own. See you later.’ I say, driving off.  
I’ve never been one for sentimental attachment, but it’s kind of sad having to say goodbye to my apartment. I pack all of my clothes, my posters, all the dvds I own. I can’t really move the tv, as I don’t know if there will be anywhere I can put it, so I guess I am restricted to watching things on my laptop from now on. As I am packing up, I come across my copy of The Avengers. Seeing this reminds me of the dark-haired boy from the photo, the boy from my Hell. It was the first thing we ever watched together. I go to my room and find that photo of me and him together. It was taken in the early stages of our relationship, before things got out of hand. I wonder if I should just burn it, but I wouldn’t feel right not having the photo with me. I pack it along with everything else.   
When I arrive back at Miss Mead’s house, it’s her that answers the door.  
‘Hello.’ I say. What the fuck are you even supposed to say to a robot? ‘Michael said that it would be ok if I, um, stayed with you for a while?’ I say, hoping that she will let me in.  
‘Of course.’ She says, smiling and beckoning me in.   
She leads me upstairs, and points to a room on the left.  
‘Michael’s in there. You are over there.’ She says, pointing at another room on the right. It takes me a couple of journeys up and down the stairs to move all of my stuff. When I finally do get to look at my room, I see that’s it’s fairly small, way too small for all of my stuff. Still, I suppose I can’t be ungrateful.   
After about an hour of trying to find places for all of my stuff to go, my room looks quite decent. I lie on the bed and admire my work, when I hear a knock at my door.  
It’s Michael.  
‘Hi. Did you see Jeff and Mutt when you kissed me earlier? I haven’t seen them look so confused since I tried to explain to them why bowl cuts aren’t cool.’ I say smiling at him.  
Michael laughs, and comes in. ‘I’m glad you’ve got settled in. What’s this?’ He asks, seeing The Avengers dvd on my bed.  
I pause for a minute and wonder if I should tell him about the dark-haired boy in the photo. I suppose I should tell him now, that way he won’t be forced to look for answers another way, such as by looking through all my stuff.  
‘You finding the photo of me and that boy reminded me of it. It was what we went to see on our first date. His name was Ryan.’ I say, looking at the floor.  
‘Did he hurt you?’ Michael asks.  
‘Not at first. I was 14 when we met, he was 16. I always found everything a bit too much back then, school, family. The only way I could ever get away from it was either by watching movies, and when my parents’ arguing in my house got too loud, sometimes I couldn’t even do that. So I would always walk down to this shitty playground at the bottom of my road,. I would sit in there for hours sometimes, just to be away from everything. That’s where I met Ryan.’ I say, sitting down on the bed, as I feel like this could be quite a long story. Michael sits down beside me, taking my hand.  
‘He seemed like a weirdo, which is what made me like him. When we started talking, we both discovered we liked the same things. We were both obsessed with superheroes, that kind of stuff. As The Avengers was about to come out, we went to see it on our first date. That night was my first everything, not just my first date. It was my first kiss, my first time having sex, and the beginning of my first and only real relationship.’ I say, not meeting Michael’s eyes. ‘Which is why when I saw him in that photo last night, I was reminded of this.’  
‘What happened after?’ Michael says.  
‘Ryan didn’t have a great background. He never knew his dad, his mum gave him away when he was about 3. He went from foster home to foster home, spent a few months in jail here and there for stealing and other things like that. I don’t know why I’m trying make excuses for him.’ I say. ‘But anyway, he ended up at this foster home on my road, called Arcane House. It was run by this really great couple, possibly some of the most decent people I’ve ever met, called Mary and John Thompson. I think they sent him there as kind of his last shot to be happy, but he wasn’t happy. Ryan was never satisfied. He was bored there. So he started to suggest that we become superheroes ourselves. Vigilantes, he said. Like Batman. I think I knew that all he really wanted to do was murder people. Violence always gave him a rush. But I so wanted to please him, because it seemed to me at the time that he was the best thing that had and ever would happen to me. So I went along with it.’ I say sadly.  
‘I assume this is where your 29 kills come in.’ Michael says.  
‘Yes. Ryan knew a lot of dodgy people from places that he lived before, drug dealers and petty thieves mostly, so he would drive us all around our town and we would take them out. We became infamous. Legends. Which is exactly what Ryan wanted, of course. He always did love attention. I never felt bad about it. Maybe it’s because I only had room to feel happy after each kill, as Ryan told me how much he loved me. We did this for about two years.’ I say. ‘However, I was very much the Harley Quinn to his Joker. He was in control. He made me kill people I didn’t always want to. People that I thought were too young. He said he wanted to make sure I was loyal to him, but I wasn’t just loyal to him. I belonged to him.’   
‘What ended it?’ Michael asks. ‘Why did you stop.’  
This is the part that I don’t want to tell Michael. The most painful part. If he knows this, if he knows my greatest fear, he can use it against me, and I don’t completely trust him yet. I’ll tell him one day. I decide to say something that isn’t a lie, but it’s not the whole story.  
‘There came this one night he wanted me to kill a 12 year old boy who had been stealing from a local shop. To me, this was too much. I said no. So he slashed me with a knife.’ I say, lifting up my shirt to show a scar that started at my bellybutton and went up to just underneath my breast.  
‘That was when I realised that he didn’t really care. I was just a puppet to him. That pretty much ended our relationship.’ I say.  
‘Is he in your Hell?’ Michael asks quietly.  
I nod.  
‘Don’t be afraid of him. If he he ever comes looking for you, I’ll be here. I’ll kill him.’ Michael says passionately.  
Michael misunderstands my Hell. He thinks I am afraid of Ryan finding me, of what he will do to me. It’s not him I’m afraid of, it never was. I was always afraid of what I might do when I was with him. When I lost control.  
‘Don’t bother,’ I say, standing. ‘I already killed him myself.’  
Michael seems surprised at that, as he probably doesn’t understand why I’d still be afraid of him.  
‘Well, now I know your story, you know mine.’ I say. ‘Want to watch The Avengers?’ I ask.  
‘I would love to.’ Michael says happily.  
And so that’s what we do. We watch it on my laptop, Michael resting his head on my shoulder, and me passionately explaining to him who all of the characters are. We don’t stop there. We watch other Marvel movies well into the night, past 1 in the morning. We decide to call it a day there.  
‘I’m so glad you like them. If you didn’t, I would disown you as a friend because it would tell me that you have no taste.’ I say as Michael is about to leave my room.  
‘I’m genuinely afraid to disagree with you on anything to do with movies. The forthcoming apocalypse would be ruined, as you would no longer want to help me.’ Michael laughs. ‘Good night.’ He says, kissing me and then going back into his room.  
I get into bed and fall asleep fairly quickly. It’s what happens after I fall asleep that’s the problem. I’m back in the playground, with Ryan, pointing a gun at my family. I’m back in Hell.  
‘You know you have to.’ Ryan whispers in my ear. ‘If you want me to stay, you have to.’  
I pull the trigger and I hear the gun go off, but I wake up before I see what happens next. Then someone knocks on the door.  
It’s Michael again.  
‘Are you ok? I heard you scream.’ He says, before realising what had happened. ‘You were back in Hell weren’t you?’ He says, his eyes full of such sympathy. ‘Come here.’ He offers his hand to me. I don’t want to be on my own. I take his hand and he leads me into to his room. He kisses me gently as he shuts the door, before starting to remove my top.  
20 minutes later, we lie in bed together, his arms wrapped around me.   
‘I want you to know that I wouldn’t control you. Or make you do something you don’t want to. I wouldn’t do that.’ Michael says.   
‘I believe you.’ I find myself saying. I don’t know if I mean it or not.  
I fall asleep a couple of minutes later. I don’t dream of Hell when I’m with him. I feel safe.   
Our relationship continues on like this for a couple of weeks. We watch movies, or go on walks together. Sometimes he spends time with Miss Mead, and in those moments all I can do is eagerly anticipate his return. I haven’t felt anything like this since Ryan, I know that much. I don’t know if it’s love, or if Michael or me are even capable of love. But it’s definitely something.  
I start the nights sleeping in my room, but I always end up going to Michael’s. Eventually I give up trying to sleep on my own and just go straight to his room at night. He doesn’t mind. In fact, I think he likes not being alone too.  
One day, as we are waking up, Michael turns over to me and says, ‘I have a job I would like you to do.’   
I have been expecting something like this. It’s his way of getting me to prove my worth to his plan.  
‘What is it?’ I ask.  
‘The witches remain the greatest threat to our plan. They probably have placed some powerful protection spells around their school. I know someone that can break them. I need you to convince a woman named Dinah Stevens that she should help us, instead of remaining loyal to the witches.’  
‘Why has it got to be her?’ I ask.  
‘She’s the Voodoo Queen.’ Michael explains. I should enquire further into this, but I’m honestly not surprised by anything anymore. ‘She should be at this address at 2 o’clock. Good luck.’ Michael says.  
‘Wait wait wait, what do I offer her? She’s going to want some kind of reward.’ I say.  
‘Tell her I can give her what she really wants- her own tv show.’ Michael says smiling.  
‘Um, ok.’ I say. Hopefully the promise of that will be enough.  
‘Oh, and also, meet me at the Entergy Theater after you’re done.’  
‘Avengers Endgame?’ I ask excitedly. He nods.  
I drive to this address Michael has given me. It’s in a rich neighbourhood, where all the houses are about 20 times the size of Miss Mead’s. I wonder what the Voodoo Queen is even doing here, but sure enough, at 2 o’clock, a woman dressed in green walks out of the house, carrying a thick wad of cash. I get out of my car and walk over to her.  
‘Dinah Stevens, I presume?’ I say, sounding more confident than I feel.   
‘Who’s asking?’ She says, sounding suspicious. ‘What do you want?’  
‘I’m here to offer you an exciting business opportunity. Courtesy of Michael Langdon. You know who he is? I ask.  
Dinah immediately looks angry.  
‘I do, so give me one reason I shouldn’t rip your heart straight out of your chest, as you’re one of his servants.  
‘He could just bring me back. And, he can give you what you want. Anything you want. Including that tv show.’ I add, praying that it will work.  
Dinah pauses for a moment, before saying, ‘What do you need?’   
She is surprisingly changeable. ‘Be outside Miss Robichaux’s Academy tomorrow at 11, and bring anything you may need to break a protective spell.’ I say. ‘We look forward to doing business with you.’ I get straight back in my car, and drive off, proud that I accomplished the mission.  
I drive to Entergy Theater, where I see Michael waiting outside for me, dressed in his iconic black.  
‘She said she’d come.’ I say happily, getting out of the car. ‘One mention of the tv show and she was convinced.’  
‘Well done.’ Michael says, offering me his hand. We walk into the Theater together.  
‘I fucking told you Loki was coming back.’ I say smugly to Michael after the film is finished.  
‘And I told you that Iron Man would be alive at the end. You were convinced he was going to die, but I knew that they wouldn’t kill him off as it would have been too much for the audience to handle. Humans are weak like that.’ Michael says, not to be outdone.  
‘Indeed we are.’ I agree. 

The next morning, Michael and I get up earlier than we would normally because we know we have a job to do. We don’t say much, but every time we meet each other’s eyes, we smile maliciously, as we are both looking forward to it. Michael because he wants to avenge his fallen allies, and me because I want to hurt whoever has hurt Michael. I guess that’s another sign I have really grown to care for him.  
We pull up outside Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. We have taken Miss Mead with us, as Michael says now is a good time for her to start using all of her assets. Dinah is already waiting outside for us.   
‘Are you ready?’ Michael says to Dinah.  
She nods I response.  
With a flick of his wrist, Michael opens the gates. Him, Miss Mead, Dinah and me all walk inside, up the steps to the front door.  
We are nearly ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 😈


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:  
Miss Robichaux’s Academy is a large white building, and doesn’t really look like a school, more like a very rich person’s house. Still, I don’t have time to question it, as as soon as we are outside the front door, Dinah sets down some feathers and begins some kind of ritual.  
‘Um, Michael?’ I say, tapping him on the shoulder. ‘Just so I know, is there anyone specifically I should be looking for, or is this more of a no survivors kind of scenario?’ I ask as turns to me.  
‘Kill everyone you come across, but prioritise Madison Montgomery, Myrtle Snow, who is an old woman with large red hair and Zoe Benson, who is a plain looking young woman with dark blonde hair. They are the most powerful. And if you come across Cordelia, the Supreme,’ Michael says, an angry look in his eye, ‘leave her for me.’  
Dinah continues doing her Voodoo thing, which is presumably breaking the protective spells around the school. I have many concerns about this plan. I don’t feel like we’re being careful enough. If we go in there all guns blazing, what if there are people in other rooms or who are upstairs that have time to get away? It seems Michael hasn’t thought of this.  
‘Also, do you not think we should be a bit more.... stealthy?’ I ask.  
‘What do you mean?’ Michael asks.  
‘If we make lots of noise while we are murdering away, it could give other people that are in other parts of the house a warning, and therefore an opportunity to escape.’ I say.  
Michael pauses and thinks for a moment.  
‘You go round the back.’ He suggests. ‘Kill anyone you see, do it quietly until you hear Miss Mead start shooting. Meet me in front of the stairs when your done.  
‘Ok.’ I say, satisfied that the plan is at least a little bit more efficient now.  
I make my way around the side of the school, and then round the back. There is a door which I go to open, but it’s locked. Fuck. I hadn’t thought about that. Just as I turn away, the door swings open, allowing me to go inside. I guess Dinah’s Voodoo really works. I enter the school to find myself in some kind of kitchen. There’s a woman facing a way from me, cooking by the looks of it. She’s got long black hair that cascades down her back, and wearing a tight black skirt with a white shirt. I was expecting the witches to be wearing robes or something, but it makes sense that this place won’t be exactly like Hogwarts. I pull out my hunting knife that I keep in my boot. Michael said to be quiet until I hear shooting, so no guns. Slowly, I creep over to the girl, who still has no idea that I’m there. I’m only inches behind her, when suddenly I lunge forward, grab her by her hair, pull her close to me and drag my knife across her neck. She gasps in surprise as I do it, looking up at me in horror. She can only be about 16. Still, everyone’s going to die at some point, so I don’t feel particularly bad about it. Blood starts to spill out of her neck, drenching her white shirt. I make sure that’s she’s definitely gone before I decide to leave. I move out of the kitchen into the hallway.   
I can hear voices coming from a room further down the hall.  
‘Only light and healing energy is allowed here....’ I hear several women chanting. Clearly this must be some of those so-called protective spells.  
‘Clearly that mantra’s bullshit.’ I hear Michael say.   
‘My thoughts exactly.’ I whisper to myself, smiling.  
‘Oh come on, you can’t be that surprised to see me.’ Michael says.  
‘Fuck no, you were prophesied darling.’ I hear an older-sounding witch say. ‘Up yours.’ I hear her add. Now those are some damn good last words.  
‘I told Cordelia what I was going to do to all of you. I have deaths to avenge.’ Michael says dramatically.  
Then there comes a kind of whooshing noise, but they aren’t gunshots so I don’t move. The noise stops suddenly, but only for a moment. It starts again, and the noise that directly follows it is the sound of several women screaming. Two of them run out into the hallway, shrieking and in a panic. They don’t notice me.   
‘Mead? How the fuck are you here?!’ I hear a woman yell. I go back to concentrating on the two witches who are now in the hallway, and how I am going to sneak up on them. And then the gunshots begin. With that, I pull my gun out of my bag and start shooting at the two witches, walking towards them. I hit one in the chest straight away, and she falls the floor. I completely miss her friend, who jumps in shock as the bullets fly by her. She looks at me, screams, and my gun is ripped from my hand. The witch must have used telekinesis. Now she thinks she’s disarmed me, she kneels beside her dying friend, sobbing. I walk over and stand right behind her, but she’s so upset she doesn’t even notice. These witches are surprisingly stupid. I grab my hunting knife from my boot, and shove it through her back, so deeply that it comes out the other side.  
‘Too slow, Hermione.’ I say to her as she slumps to the floor.   
Michael emerges from the room that the two witches came from. I thought I had done pretty well, but as I look into that room there’s at least 20 dead witches lying on the floor or sitting around a now blood-soaked table. Most of them have been shot, but some have what looks like pins stuck in their heads. How the fuck did that happen? Weirder still, Miss Mead stands in the room, a gun coming out of her right arm instead of a hand. The perks of being an android I guess.  
‘Well, I got three of them.’ I say sheepishly. ‘There’s another one through there. No sign of anyone you asked me to look for.’  
‘We got Zoe Benson, but everyone else must be upstairs.’ Michael says, admiring his work.  
‘Well, come on then.’ I say starting to run up the stairs. At that moment, Dinah walks up to Michael.  
‘We good?’ She says apprehensively.  
‘Better than good. I’ll put in a word with my father. Satan just greenlit your talk show for 13 episodes.’ Michael says.  
‘Michael, people to murder, deaths to avenge, remember?’ I say, trying to hurry him up.  
He turns away from Dinah, and starts to walk up the stairs. Very slowly up the stairs. Miss Mead begins to follow at the same slow pace.  
‘Could you guys walk any slower?’ I say impatiently. ‘They could be getting away!’  
Michael continues to walk at that pace regardless. Maybe he thinks it makes him look more ominous. When we eventually do get upstairs, Michael leads us to a room, flicks his wrist and opens the doors. There is no one there, clearly much to Michael’s surprise. No Cordelia, no Myrtle, no Madison Montgomery. A window sits open, implying whoever was in here made a swift getaway.  
‘So basically everyone of relevance escaped then.’ I say.  
Michael looks fucking livid. I guess it isn’t a good time to say I told you so.

‘We failed! Again!’ Michael shouts after we are back at Miss Mead’s house.  
‘We got some of them.’ I say, putting a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him.  
‘The witches we actually wanted to kill got away. Cordelia fucked with me and my people, and for that all I wanted was to watch her die, but instead-‘  
‘You’re angry,’ Miss Mead says, cutting Michael off. ‘And I understand. By this is still a victory. And besides, your destiny is to end the world with a reign of fire. Killing a few witches ain’t gonna do that.’  
‘You were the one that said the way to end the world was with magic. You said that either the witches and warlocks stood behind us or we kill them.’ Michael says, sounding very frustrated.  
‘Well, that was our plan before, maybe we need to change course.’ Miss Mead suggests.  
‘What does that even mean?’ Michael says, getting even more stressed.  
‘It’s time to burn this sucker down. And you don’t needs magic for that. And besides when you end the world, you end the witches.’ Miss Mead says. ‘Come on, Michael. Think bigger.’  
‘I have actually been thinking about some other possible avenues.’ Michael says, calming down.  
‘See? That’s great!’ Miss Mead says happily. ‘Like what?’  
‘Maybe I could run for President.’ Michael says. I laugh until I realise he is serious.  
‘Ok. That could be problematic for a lot of reasons. You look barely old enough to rent a car.’ Miss Mead says, clearly thinking along the same lines as me.   
‘True, but I could start out as an ambassador, and then I would become one of the President’s most trusted advisor.’ Michael explains, not seeing that this idea isn’t great. Michael’s plan sounds strangely familiar.  
‘Michael, that sounds like the plot of the Omen 3, is that where you’re getting your ideas.’ Miss Mead says.  
‘I knew I had heard that plan somewhere before. I showed you those movies because I thought that you would find them funny, not so you could take notes.’ I say.  
‘Well I don’t know where else to look.’ Michael says, getting frustrated again. ‘It’s not like there’s a bunch of reference material on how to be the Antichrist.’  
‘Ok. We could go to the guys who brought me back to you. Maybe they have the answers.’ Miss Mead suggests eagerly.   
‘Really? They seem like a bunch of coked-out needs to me.’ Michael says doubtfully.  
‘No. They’re very smart. Not to mention good-looking.’ Miss Mead states. It’s this comment that makes me suspicious. Why is Miss Mead suddenly singing those idiots’ praises? Unless they are controlling her. Can they do that? As it’s their tech I assume they can. Great. Jeff and Mutt have been spying on us the entire time.  
Michael looks a little suspicious too, and stares deeply at Miss Mead for a moment.   
‘Ok. We’ll go.’ Michael decides.  
‘I need to talk to you.’ I say suddenly to Michael. ‘Come out here.’ I grab his arm and pull him outside the room so that Miss Mead can’t hear.  
‘Yeah Jeff and Mutt are controlling your Mead Android.’ I say.  
‘They wouldn’t do that.’ Michael says uncertainly, starting to look frustrated again.  
‘Yes, they would. You know they would.’ I say.  
‘Well what do we do now then, if we can’t even go to them?’ Michael says.  
I think for a moment. ‘I think it’s best that we do go to them. They probably have some useful information, or they wouldn’t be trying to trick us there in the first place.’  
‘But how can I trust them, if I know they are trying to manipulate me?’ Michael says.  
‘You can’t. You can’t trust anyone, because everyone has an ulterior motive for helping you. They are all going to try to use you to get what they want.’ I say. ‘And they want the apocalypse. Jeff, Mutt, your fucking Satanists pals.’  
‘What makes you any different then?’ Michael says, looking hurt.  
I try to think of the best way to explain why I’m different.  
‘Look, if you suddenly turned to me and said I don’t want to destroy the world anymore, I want to be an elementary school teacher, I would say that’s a bit of a weird turn of events, but ok, I’ll help you do that. I’m here for you, not for your apocalypse. I’ll always help you, no matter what it is you need.’ I say, realising it is true, and it has been ever since I met him.  
Michael looks very confused by this. I suppose he isn’t used to having people in his life that want something more from him.  
‘Come here.’ I say, grabbing Michael’s hand and taking him upstairs. I go into my room, and open one of the draws. I pull out the instruction manual I made as a joke on the night I first met him.   
‘See?’ I say, handing it to me. ‘All I’ve ever really wanted to do is help you. I helped you when I found you in the woods, I helped you get Miss Mead back, I helped you kill the witches. Well, some of them anyway.’   
Michael flicks through the instruction manual, smiling at all the stupid sarcastic comments that are in it.  
‘Tip number 12, avoid holy water.’ He reads out loud.  
‘It’s not meant to be taken seriously.’ I say.  
Michael puts it down and stares at me for a moment.  
‘Thank you. For everything you have done for me. I thought I was all alone.’ Michael says, putting his arms around me and resting his head on my shoulder.  
‘I thought I would be alone forever. But neither us ever have to be again.’ I say, kissing him gently on the lips. ‘Because I don’t plan on going anywhere.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Ave Satanas. 😈


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:  
An hour later, Michael and I find ourselves at the mercy of Jeff and Mutt’s stupidity once again. We sit down at a table facing them, and they smile brightly at us. Michael and I glare back at them, as we know they are invading our privacy. Still, we can’t say anything, as we actually do need there help.  
Jeff pushes a piece of paper towards Michael, we he picks up and reads.  
‘Putin, Clinton.’ Michael says, reading names off the piece of paper. I lean over to have a look.  
‘Bill, not Hillary.’ Mutt interjects.  
‘Kim Pyong-so,’ Michael continues.  
‘General Kim.’ Jeff interrupts. ‘Dude controls all the weapons in North Korea.’  
‘I don’t get it, how are all these people connected?’ Michael says.  
‘That’s a list of one hundred members of the world’s most powerful organisation called … The Co-Operative.’ Jeff says dramatically.  
‘Yeah, except no one in the Co-Operative would ever admit to being in the Co-Operative. Also, the Co-Operative is a code name. The real name … is the Illuminati.’ Mutt says, pausing to create a suspenseful effect.  
‘Wait, isn’t that the thing that everyone is always accusing Beyoncé and Jay-Z of being in?’ I ask.  
‘Yep.’ Jeff says, giving me a look that suggests that in fact Beyoncé and Jay-Z are members of whatever this organisation is.  
‘And technically this list doesn’t exist. Bye list!’ Jeff says, lighting the list on fire. Michael and I turn to look at each other, both of us clearly thinking there is only so much more of this we can take.   
‘You guys are in the Illuminati?’ Michael asks skeptically.  
‘Well, I mean, were that group to exist, you might find some familiar names on the roster. At number 69.’ Mutt says.  
‘69! Yeah!’ Jeff says, laughing and giving Mutt a high-five. Kill me now.  
‘The point is, the Co-Operative controls the money, the arts, the armies, the thoughts, everything. They run the fucking world.’ Jeff says.  
‘And everyone in the Co-Operative has sold their soul to the devil. Which means, you control the Co-Operative. Daddy set you up bro.’ Mutt says to Michael.  
‘They’ve been waiting for the Antichrist, you just tell them what you want and when you want it, and they have to do it. They’re basically like your army, dude.’ Jeff explains.  
‘But what am I supposed to do with them? If magic wasn’t enough to bring about the end times-‘ Michael begins to say.  
‘No no no.’ Mutt says, cutting him off. ‘You don’t need magic to destroy the world, bro. Not when you have science.’   
‘And humanity. People suck. They’re selfish and short-sighted. All anyone cares about is immediate gratification.’ Jeff says, snorting some cocaine. ‘And that’s why everything happens. One shitty self-serving act at a time. You multiply one bad impulse by seven billion people, you get global warming, you get mass extinction, you definitely get genocide.’ Jeff says, trying to sound intelligent.  
‘I mean, it’s shear numbers, bro. Math is wayyyy more powerful than magic.’ Jeff says passionately. Michael looks like he doesn’t believe him about that last part, not that I blame him.  
‘We are totally ready to give the middle finger to the world and totally restart mankind!’ Jeff finishes.  
‘It’s the prophecy, bro! You will reign for a thousand years of fire, it’s in the book.’ Mutt says.  
‘It’s in the good book! You read this book? Revelations! You read it?’ Jeff says, plonking down a copy of The Book Revelations in front of Michael. Michael opens the book with his mind and starts reading.   
‘So what’s next?’ Michael says excitedly after a moment.   
‘Ok, so deadhand is a Russian nuclear defence system set up for mutual assured destruction. In the event that a nuclear attack is detected, counter missiles will be launched automatically, even if all the commanders on the ground are dead.’ Mutt explains happily. ‘With the people we know in positions of power, all you need for Armageddon bro is three people in the right places pushing the right buttons.’ Mutt and Jeff both imitate explosion noises.  
‘Will it be enough to kill the witches?’ Michael asks seriously.  
‘Yeah, I mean, definitely, all you gotta do is talk to the Co-Operative.’ Jeff says, trying to hide the uncertainty in his voice.   
Michael sits back, looking satisfied with the answers he has gotten. I, however, am not.  
‘Hold up. So you get your Illuminati buddies to nuclear bomb the crap out of the world, but then where are we supposed to go? I don’t fancy being slowly killed by radiation.’ I say critically.  
‘Simple, babe. We get underground bunkers, outposts, where selected survivors will be safe.’ Jeff says casually.  
‘Where are we gonna find loads of different underground bunkers?’ I ask.  
‘I know one.’ Michael says suddenly. ‘But we will have to clear it out first.’  
‘What is it?’ I ask.  
‘The Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men.’ Michael says, a mischievous glint in his eye.  
‘The warlocks school.’ I say, understanding. I also interpret ‘clear out’ as murder everyone there. ‘We can go this afternoon. We’ll swing by to collect Miss Mead, and then these two can meet us there later to see if it’s the kind of thing they mean.’  
Jeff and Mutt don’t look too thrilled to have to make the journey there, but they have to agree.

‘I’m telling you now, I’m not going to same underground bunker as them in the apocalypse. I couldn’t take it.’ I say as we’re getting in the car.  
‘Agreed.’ Michael says.  
‘You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?’ I ask.  
‘No, which is why we have to put up with those idiots until I don’t need them anymore.’ Michael says, sounding frustrated.  
‘Just make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons.’ I say.  
‘What do you mean by that?’ Michael asks.  
‘I mean don’t cause the apocalypse just because you feel like you have to, do it because you want to. For example, you want to kill the witches because the killer your loved one. That’s a valid reason. But what reason do you have for causing the apocalypse? Is it just because everyone tells you that’s what you should do?’ I say.  
Michael considers this for a moment. ‘If I didn’t do that, what else would I do? I can’t do anything normal people do, because eventually I would lose control again and end up hurting someone. That’s what happened when I was living with my grandma.’ He says sadly.  
‘So you’re doing it because you think it’s your only purpose. I can understand that. Not feeling like you have any place in the world is one of the worst things you can feel, second only maybe to helplessness. In my opinion, anyway.’ I say.  
Michael stares at me for a while, then turns away. He looks kind of angry, but I don’t really understand what I could have said to upset him. 

We pick up Miss Mead, and then start to drive to Hawthorne, Jeff and Mutt following behind us. They aren’t driving themselves of course, they are being driven in a Lamborghini.   
It takes us a couple of hours, but eventually we make it. Hawthorne is a black, circular building, but that’s just the outside of it; everything else is underground. Jeff and Mutt decide to wait in their car, while me, Michael and Mead enter. Not that any of us are particularly bothered, I doubt that those morons would be much use. Michael leads us to an elevator, which takes us down to a long corridor, which is mostly illuminated by candles. It kind looks like an old mansion, not a school. Ahead of us there is a fireplace, flickering ominously.  
Michael walks down the corridor, and Mead and I follow.  
‘You go upstairs.’ He says to me. ‘There are forms up there, so-‘. He is cut off as two boys of about 17 walk past, dressed in a blue uniform. They must be students. They clearly recognise Michael, as they scream in shock and turn to run away, but they are on fire and turning to ash before than can get anywhere.   
‘The others would have heard that. Go now.’ He says without any emotion in his voice.  
I run up the spiral staircase in the next room, and enter the first door I come across. There’s about four boys sitting in there, relaxing and chatting. The turn to me in surprise, wondering what a slightly deranged looking girl with a gun is doing in their room. They don’t have much time to think about it though, as I shoot 2 of them through the head and the other 2 in the chest. Blood spreads out in a neat puddle around them. I move on to the next room, where I find 4 more boys. They put up about as good of fight as the last lot. For magical beings, they really do go down very easily.   
Once I have cleared all the rooms, I return downstairs. Michael is standing in a circular room, Miss Mead standing dutifully by his side. There are about 50 bodies surrounding them, all of them dressed in that same blue uniform, except for two men. They are clearly a lot older so they must be teachers. Michael is moving the bodies telekinetically; he’s putting them in some kind of pattern. I realise after a while that’s he’s arranging them in a pentagram.  
‘Cute.’ I say, laughing. He doesn’t respond.  
‘Have I said something wrong?’ I ask, dreading the answer.  
‘You lied to me.’ Michael says, not looking at me.  
I know what he’s talking about immediately. He knows that I haven’t been entirely honest about Ryan and my Hell. Fuck. It’s going to be hard to talk my way out of this.  
‘What do you mean? I haven’t lied to you.’ I say trying to play it innocent.  
‘You said in the car, that the worst feeling ever for you is helplessness. What do you mean by that?’ He asks quietly.  
‘I mean like, when Ryan manipulated me into doing things he wanted.’ I say, hoping he won’t know I’m lying.  
‘You’re lying. I know you are.There’s a lot more to it than that. It has got something to do with your family.’ Michael says, sounding dangerous.  
I don’t answer him.  
‘You don’t trust me. You think that I’m going to use you, manipulate you. I told I wouldn’t do that.’ He says quietly.  
I lose my temper. ‘Yeah well, no offence, but you’re literally the Antichrist. You aren’t the most trustworthy person.’ I say angrily.  
Michael looks crushed by this. Just as he about to say something, Jeff and Mutt walk in.  
‘All done, bro?’ Mutt says to Michael unnecessarily, seeing as there are bodies everywhere.  
‘Yes. Take a look around, see if it’s the kind of thing you need. Miss Mead and I will be going now.’ Michael says, turning to leave. I go to follow him. ‘You stay here with them. Miss Mead will drive me back in your car.’ Michael snaps.  
I glare at him as he walks away. How fucking rude. I suppose it’s was a bit harsh of me to tell him he was untrustworthy, it really isn’t what he needs to hear. But he shouldn’t ask about things that I clearly don’t want to talk about. Especially not my family.   
‘Ouch. Trouble in paradise, babe?’ Mutt says placidly.  
‘None of your fucking business, and don’t call me babe. Now get on with it and do your fucking job so we can can fucking get out of here.’ I say angrily.  
Jeff and Mutt have a good look around, which takes them about half an hour. I sit there and think about what just happened. I’m going to have to tell him. I have no choice, not if I want him to calm down.  
‘This is exactly what we need.’ Jeff says. ‘This place can become one of the outposts.’   
‘Great.’ I say, not meaning it all. ‘Now let’s lea-‘. At that moment, I hear the elevator start to come down.   
‘Is that one of your drivers?’ I ask Jeff.  
‘We told them to stay up there.’ He replies.  
‘Back to the dungeon again.’ I hear someone say. It sounds like the voice of an old woman. ‘I’d hoped to avoid the aroma of pubescent warlocks for the rest of my life.’ She continues.  
‘Witches.’ I realise. It must be some on the ones that escaped. ‘Hide.’ I say, panicking.  
‘Quickly. Not in this room.’ This is the room with all the bodies in it, which is sure to attract a lot of attention from them.  
Jeff, Mutt and I run into the room, and dive behind a bookcase. The only way out is the elevator, and between that and us they are at least two witches, who if they find us have the power to trap us in Hell for all eternity, beyond where even Michael can reach us.  
We are not only completely trapped, we are completely fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Ave Satanas 😈

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this. This is also on quotev, and there are more chapters out on there in you are interested in reading ahead. 😈😈


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